


Centaurus A

by astrobinu (ranithepirate)



Series: ASTRO Space AU [1]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Comedy, Cyberpunk, Drama, Family Drama, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Romance, Science Fiction, i hope the space trope isn't overdone in this fandom, i'm a new aroha hello friends, possible smut in the future, so hear me out....... eunwoo is an alien. the prettiest alien.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:41:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranithepirate/pseuds/astrobinu
Summary: Bin is the best military spacecraft pilot to come out of this side of the galaxy and he knows it, but for the first time in his career he finds himself embarking on a journey that has him racing across the universe with an extraordinarily beautiful alien prince who is so much more than he seems.





	1. Messier 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's literally been 2 weeks since I found out about Astro and I'm already trash. It's because of Eunwoo's eyesmile. I blame him.
> 
> Also this is probably the shortest chapter since it's more of an intro to the AU than anything else.

_[Holosphere](https://80lv-cdn.akamaized.net/80.lv/uploads/2017/01/Reach_Hologram.png) _

 

“Bin, did you get the vox I just sent?”

Bin doesn’t bother looking away from the holosphere at the sound of Myungjun’s voice poking at his concentration, completely expecting it when older man vaults onto the couch and crashes into his side. Bin adjusts his grip on the controller to balance their weight and keep from falling over, the tiny spaceship jump driving between galaxies in the holosphere in front of them showing zero influence from the movement – he wasn’t the best pilot to come out of K-Gen 78S for no reason. After all, his graduating class is renown across the universe for their very rare Alpha-Class aviators: a small niche of 3, including Bin.

“Which vox?” he questions back, attention mostly on the cyber map hovering in front of his left eye. Bin needed to safely begin orbiting Kepler-10b to pass the simulation, but navigating the galaxies while having a conversation would only make it harder to find. Typically, he’d rely on his co-pilot, Minhyuk, for navigation, since he was the one who graduated with honors in astrometrics and was the official navigator of their crew. The two of them were neighbors on the gen ship they were born on and were normally always together, especially after being assigned to the same special operations unit.

Had Minhyuk been in the room right now, he would’ve whooped loudly at Bin’s expert handling of Myungjun’s sudden appearance, but Bin had left him alone down in the engine room with their tall new engineer, Sanha, hours ago. Their captain, Jinwoo, and Bin had a bet going to see how long it would take for Sanha to notice Minhyuk’s advances; it had already been a month since and Bin didn’t have much time until he lost 250 credits to the captain. Had he known Sanha would be this oblivious, he would have said one year instead of four weeks.

Myungjun makes a dissatisfied sound at Bin’s obvious distraction from their conversation and stands up abruptly to block the younger’s view of the holosphere. Startled, Bin blinks away the map to look up at the other man instead. The simulation immediately senses his loss of concentration and times out, failing him, the tiny ship exploding into pieces just before the sphere shuts off and floods the rec room in darkness. Seconds later, the auto lights flicker on, and now Bin can clearly see the perplexed look on the older man’s face.

“This is what happens when you spend all your time in here training or working out instead of paying attention to the vox I send all of you,” Myungjun complains, arms crossed as he motions pointedly with his head at the comm unit hooked around Bin’s left ear. “What’s the point of being a liaison if our pilot doesn’t even pay attention to me? You know it’s a bad situation when _I’m_ the most responsible one in our crew.”

Bin can only grin sheepishly in response, knowing full well that he broke code by turning off his communicator so that he could concentrate on training instead. He’s never supposed to do that, especially since they’re usually assigned missions on a second's notice and need to be prepared to jump drive at any given moment. However, since intergalactic operations were all but stopped the past few weeks because of a couple new peacetime agreements going into motion, Bin grew worried his skill would turn rusty during the lull.

Despite all this, he knows Myungjun would never report him so he concedes by swiping lightly against the part of the device resting on his temple to turn it back on. Immediately three silent vibrations indicating an incoming message prickle his ear, Myungjun’s voice following shortly:

_“Incoming transmission from headquarters to the special operations ship #105, ASTRO: a wrecked Centaurian cruiser is requesting support on Gilese 876d and requires immediate attention. HQ orders that we approach without being seen and comply with whatever they ask of us. Sending the galaxy coordinates to your comm units immediately.”_

Before the dispatch request is even over Bin is on his feet, exchanging apprehensive looks with Myungjun before they begin to run through the main bridge and into the superstructure. The fact that they were ordered to do whatever the Centaurians say was concerning enough, considering that as a special operations unit for their homeworld, they are unused to putting the security of aliens above humans, even if their families haven’t stepped foot on Earth for generations. Nevertheless, Bin decides he doesn’t have time to question the orders since he’s already wasted a couple minutes as it is. While the coordinates are being read off in his ear, he stops by the supply room to pull off his casual workout clothing in favor of his fitted combat spacesuit, pressing the button on the side of his neck to release the retractable oxygen headgear and test it before withdrawing it back into the suit.

By the time he enters the main control room, everyone is settling into their stations. Jinwoo, while adjusting the ship settings in the central seat, gives Bin a nod of acknowledgement when he passes by, the grim look on his face reflecting the younger’s. Myungjun is in position to the left of the captain, speaking quickly in an alien tongue into his comm to someone Bin can only assume is on the crashed Centaurian cruiser. Sanha, on the captain’s right, is rapidly double checking the ship’s conditions through the overview screen as he prepares them for the three consecutive jump drives that it’ll take for them to reach Messier 32, the galaxy where planet Gilese 876d is located.

Bin picks up speed to take his position at the front in the steering bay, glancing briefly at Minhyuk, who standing in front of the glass with his arms crossed, staring into the depths of space like the millions of lightyears of distance between them and their mission would somehow answer his questions. He turns when he hears Bin bypassing the three steps down to their seats by jumping over the rail, taking his spot to the right.

“I’ve already entered in the coordinates, but it looks like we’ll have to circumvent through the asteroid shell on Gilese since we can’t use the main entrance,” Minhyuk informs as he brings up a holoscreen displaying their three-jump scheme to enter the solar system in Messier 32. He flicks through the plans, moving the information around and zooming into the planet’s unstable outer shell. He’d already mapped out a possible way in, but it was full of sharp turns and difficult maneuvers. “This is just to give you a hypothetical idea of how we’ll pass through, but the timing will probably be off after we jump drive.”

Bin licks his lips at the messy sight, a mostly involuntary action that almost always goes along with a feeling of thrill in the face of challenge. It’s been a while since a flight pattern looked like something he’d actually been trained for. Being a special ops pilot had been largely underwhelming for someone like Bin, even if the job description strongly recommended him to be Alpha-Class. He’s half the reason ASTRO, their unit codename, is given the more difficult assignments; the other half is because the entire crew is especially trained for obstacles of this level.

Myungjun’s voice filters onto the comm, pulling Bin’s attention away. “We’ve received an incoming message from the Centaurian cruiser. They’ve sent in the coordinates of their location on the planet, sending them to Minhyuk now.”

“Received. Location is set,” Minhyuk responds, even as he continues to search for a better entry point than the ones he’s already found, eyes never leaving the live planet hologram.

“Engines are good to go,” Sanha informs, the sound of the engine whirring louder and louder as the jump drive gage finally passes 3 on the digital counter. “And the shield generator is operational.”

“Ready when you are, Captain,” Bin says into the comm, hands gripping the controls as he rotates the ship so that they are facing the direction of their destination. He can see the video feed of each crew member to the left of his holoscreen, and his eyes never leave Jinwoo’s face as the captain makes the last adjustments.

When Jinwoo finally looks up from the controls he appears determined, eyes fixing on the front. “Okay boys,” he begins, tugging on the main lever to release the jump drive guard. “Taking off in three, two, one—” With a strong pull he drags back the release and the ship jerks forward, as if yanked, and then ASTRO is careening headfirst into a different galaxy, millions of lightyears away.

_No turning back_ , is Bin’s last thought before his surroundings blur together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be your typical, action-packed, sexy, intergalactic romance. Despite how it may seem, this is actually a pretty light-hearted fic where the main feature is a budding romance between two people who are insanely attracted to each other. Because this fic does deal with warfare and political unrest, there will be smatterings of violence and blood every now and then. TBH, I've written a lot of smut in other fandoms so I the likelihood of smut in this is high, but I'll put a warning in the notes if I do.
> 
> Also please leave comments and feedback! I just finished outlining the story so for once I actually know how a fic will end, but I still love hearing what everyone has to say! It's really encouraging.


	2. Gilese 876d

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have any classes for 2 weeks, so expect frequent updates! And when I say frequent, I mean _very_ frequent, lol. My son finally makes an appearance~

_[Control room aboard ASTRO](http://www.ex-astris-scientia.org/gallery/bridges/nx01-bridge.jpg) _

 

Bin’s lungs finally fill with air after the third jump warps them into Messier 32. It only lasted a couple minutes, but traveling such a long distance so suddenly leaves them feeling physically exhausted and nauseous, their seatbelts leaving aches that will bruise later. Almost immediately a machine in the armrest injects them with adrenaline and Bin regains feeling in his body with a rush of energy, the phantom ache in his fingers from gripping the steering so hard finally registering in his brain. Pilots are specially trained to tense up in order to keep the ship steady while passing through the wormholes created by the force of the jump drive, otherwise they could crash into something or, worse even, phase into a solid entity and suffocate instantly.

Originally, humans could not withstand this sort of travel, and it almost always ended in severe brain hemorrhage or instant death, but genetic modification and new technology transformed the human body over time. These days, humans born on gen ships had android-like bodies different from the original Earthling, what with their steel-reinforced bones and CPUs grafted in their brains from birth, all to keep up with common alien abilities. Even with these upgrades, they were still more human than anything, and not every single person born in space was armored for combat like their crew was; they still had to go through rigorous military training before gaining licenses for superhuman enhancements.

“Is everyone okay?” Jinwoo asks, more out of courtesy than anything, not really expecting a response and already back to work as he recalibrates the ship for the eventual return trip to their post. It’ll take a couple hours before ASTRO can jump drive again and Sanha will need to stay in the engine room until then for the required maintenance and tune ups as they go. The tall engineer is already on his way there when he blinks on the camera in his left eye so that what he’s seeing appears on their holoscreens instead of his face; still unused to the program, he overshoots and blinks too long so all they see is the back of his eyelid for almost an entire minute.

“50 credits say he’ll trip at least twice,” Myungjun wages, leaning back in his seat with his feet up on the communications panel as he expands Sanha’s camera as if it was a movie.

Jinwoo, king of bets, adds, “Three times, for sure.”

“I’m siding with the captain,” Minhyuk pipes in before Bin can get a word out, throwing a satisfied smirk at the pilot.

“I’m not betting then,” Bin grumbles, wrinkling his nose with a pout. “Everyone knows that the captain always wins these things, it’s really pointless to bet against him. I’m already gonna loose 250 credits to him in a week, I refuse to fork over 300.”

Minhyuk pauses in the middle of scouting the planet, his head snapping towards Bin with a suspicious look on his face. “Wait, what did you guys bet on?”

“That’s for you to figure out for yourself and me to become rich on,” Jinwoo croons gleefully from his seat, and Bin hates him enough in that moment that he flicks the little screen displaying the captain’s face. “Hey, I saw that! Don’t make me report you for insubordination.” He’s still got that cheeky grin on his face and Bin sticks his tongue out at him. Right then, Sanha’s camera jolts forward tellingly.

“That’s trip number two! I win!” Myungjun announces, jumping onto his feet triumphantly with his hands up. Sanha’s camera jolts again almost immediately and Myungjun falls back into his seat, crossing his arms and making a face. “Damn it.”

Jinwoo cackles as Myungjun transfers the credits, and just then Gilese finally comes into view, the small dot in the distance growing larger by the second. Within a few minutes the planet is looming before them, an intimidatingly heavy screen of asteroids and space debris trapped inside the planet’s exosphere giving it a deep shade of purple. The planet itself is more blood red and brown in color, but that is only visible once you cut through the precarious outer shell that often rains down on the planet with acid and debris during stormy weather.

Disproportional to the small population, Gilese 876d is an enormous planet. Because it rotates on a horizontal axis, only a strip of the center portion of the planet is inhabitable while the rest is host to chaotic climates, depending on which pole is directly facing the central star it orbits. The poor living conditions leave room only for small, underdeveloped shantytowns crawling with exiles and gangs that fight over district control. From experience Bin knows that the capital of the planet, Aymara, is the best place to gather intel on rebel armies against intergalactic unification, as well as large pirate clans that roam the galaxies; the planet is like a pit stop for many of them, as well as an area of recruitment.

Bin also knows it is possibly the worst planet to be stranded on, especially if you are Centaurian, and he finds himself worrying more and more about the cruiser they were sent to help. He wonders just how bad the condition of the ship really is, and if it can offer any protection to the people who were inside. The triadic Centaurus planets are the principal headliners and representatives of all the intergalactic peace treaties currently setting into motion, and as such their people had very large targets on their backs.

Even though Centaurians have an extremely influential and powerful monarchy, their fragile bodies made them appear more vulnerable. They were shaped like humans but had film-like skin that was thin enough to see the barest hints of their innards, with a ranging number of eyes on their heads, although it was more usual for them to have two, and two stubbed horns on their heads that looked as if they were made from gold. However, the fact that Centaurians looked like brittle ornaments was what made them so powerful; unlike beings from most other planets, they possessed abilities that could power machines and create untouchable screens to ward off their enemies during combat, rendering them virtually unbeatable when in large groups.

Despite this unfair advantage, as Centaurians were the only heterotic alien species in the known universe, they were less keen on war and more interested in amending differences by mixing species. It was common for their royal bloodline to participate in interplanetary marriages and have their sterile offspring stand as a symbol of peace between worlds, undoubtedly making them the best candidate for a universal government leadership. The fact that Earthlings were the only known species they couldn’t crossbreed with has remained a point of tension between Earth and other planets for centuries. It’s difficult to participate in peace talks when no one thinks you belong there, so it made sense for humans to try and gain as much favor with the Centaurian monarchy as possible.

“Why do you think they chose our unit specifically?” Minhyuk suddenly asks, breaking the heavy silence that followed sighting the planet. The exosphere is close enough now that shards of ice and rubble ricochet off ASTRO’s protective shield. “I know I’m not the only one who felt our comm ping off another special op unit in Messier 32 the second we arrived.”

They’ve all been trained enough to know that this wasn’t a regulated assignment; before being dispatched they normally get a mission statement at the beginning and an operation integer that gives them an idea of how difficult it will be to carry out. If they don’t get either of those things then it means if something goes wrong, their deaths won’t be legally registered and they’ll be labeled as MIA instead; no one will ever know what happened to them. They don’t get a lot of missions like this so despite their attempts to ease the tension with laughter, their uneasiness has all but disappeared.

“I’m gonna come right out and say this, but...” Myungjun starts hesitantly, that same apprehensive look from earlier in the rec room on his face again. “I spoke to the Centaurians directly before we left and, well, they seemed _awfully_ concerned about our pilot. More specifically, his credentials.”

Sanha, who’d been listening in via comm, speaks up. “But this is a rescue mission, right? Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to ask about our captain? After all, he’s the combat specialist.”

“I don’t think any of us really believe that this is just an ordinary rescue mission,” Jinwoo answers him instead, fingers tapping on the edge of the control panel as he thinks aloud. “Centaurians have been especially agreeable with humans lately, but they are still a proud people. It would make more sense for them to contact their homeworld for help, not an Earthling military unit. There’s a reason they want contact with an Alpha-Class pilot, and our government seems a little too keen on handing such a rare classification over for there not to be a catch.”

No one says anything for a few minutes after that, minds whirring with different scenarios. Sensing their worry, Bin finally cuts through their thoughts instead. “There’s only one way to find out what’s happening,” he begins with a determined lilt to his voice, grip tightening on the steering, “and that’s when we actually make contact.” His words manage to snap everyone out of it and get them back into motion; in the end, they still had orders to follow and not a lot of time left to execute them in case they come in too late.

“You’re right,” the captain replies, sitting straighter as he pulls up the location of the Centaurian cruiser. The region map shows that the ship is some ways off the main strip of inhabitable land, close enough that it’s in the outskirts of a small town, but far out enough that the temperatures are likely to be below freezing but not absolute zero, either. “Minhyuk, what’s our position?”

Minhyuk glances at the top corner of his holoscreen. “We’re around 600 kilometers above target. Still no clear passage in sight.”

Jinwoo looks to Myungjun, mouth opening to speak, but the older responds before the he even asks anything. “The radio waves are clear and no one has spotted us yet. I’m still receiving a strong signal from the Centaurian ship, so it is safe to assume that they are still intact.”

“Bin, I trust you can get us down safely?” the captain requests, looking directly into the camera.

The pilot nods, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Of course. Who do you think I am?”

“A big idiot,” Jinwoo retorts with an unassuming, toothy grin, not missing a beat before adding, “commence descending procedures now.”

Bin laughs along with the rest of the crew, realizing he’d basically set himself up for the joke. “Roger that, captain.” With Minhyuk’s map appearing in his left eye through a signal in his brain, Bin adjusts the controls and finally dives ASTRO directly into the asteroid shell. The spaceship shudders as larger chunks of debris bounce off the shield, but Bin zooms by the biggest of them with ease, looping through asteroids and space garbage like a sewing machine at high speed. The camera in his eye marks the location of Centaurian cruiser, and within minutes they shoot out of the asteroid shell and directly into the atmosphere, cutting through the air at a high speed.

An alert pops up in their comms, letting them know that the shield generator is suffocating the flames as quickly as they are catching on the body of the ship. As their distance in kilometers from the surface whittles down double digits, Bin eases on the throttle and begins pulling up to bring ASTRO to a stop. Even from high up, the size of the Centaurian cruiser is impressively massive, easily several hundred times the size of their ship. It looks mostly intact, but the outer plates are heavily damaged and splattered with remnants of a reflective black plasma, telling of a hasty jump drive. Larger ships need more time to jump or else the wormhole won’t be big enough to carry it, so more often than not they just crush them instead. The captain of the cruiser seemed to have at least waited enough to not completely collapse the ship, but the black residue from the wormhole is extremely acidic and carries high levels of radiation.

As they prepare to land on the ground, Bin can spot several Centaurian workers in radiation suits already removing the plasma. There are couple more Centaurians who look like soldiers encircling the cruiser, leaving ample distance between themselves and are likely shielding the wreckage from possible attacks. Myungjun’s voice fills the background as he contacts them, speaking rapidly once again in the unfamiliar alien tongue but in a prepared manner that Bin recognizes as requesting landing permission. When he glances up and gives a nod, Bin and Minhyuk deploy the docking gears and finally touchdown after the ship gets a solid grip on the ground, completely motionless for the first time in a while despite the heavy wind. The stable feeling of landing on something solid is still so unfamiliar to them, since they are more used to the slight sway of spaceships than firm ground. Every time they land on a planet, Bin wonders if Earth feels this way, too.

Myungjun is still talking to the Centaurians as the rest of the crew leave their seats, and Sanha’s camera turns off as he continues working in the engine room, the sound of him humming happily cutting off at the same time. Bin can’t even begin to imagine how Sanha could withstand staying in there all the time, let alone actually love being constantly surrounded by circuits and machinery. He prefers the power of controlling a ship so much larger than him, and the excitement he feels when he successfully pulls off a maneuver that saves the crew. Bin figures that that’s why Sanha’s an engineer and he is a pilot; he thinks life is strange but cool in that regard.

Suddenly Jinwoo comes up behind Bin to pat his back, a big smile on his face. “Nice flying, Binnie,” he commends, his pats getting progressively harder, “I only felt like throwing up twice!”

Bin laughs aloud, expecting this, blocking the hits by wrapping his larger body around the shorter man in a hug. “Everything I do, I do for you, captain,” he sings-songs, rocking their bodies.

“Honestly I don’t know how we managed to get the queasiest captain in the galaxy,” Minhyuk quips cheekily, and he would have gotten smacked for it too if Myungjun’s voice hadn’t suddenly cut off in the background. The three of them look over to their liaison, his eyes looking just about ready to pop out of his skull, frozen in place and expression stunned. It takes him a second to continue speaking, nodding hastily as both of his hands push back his hair. The second the call is over, Myungjun collapses on the seat, still staring off into space. They rush to him, curious and worried when the eldest doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, what happened?” Jinwoo asks as Minhyuk waves his hands in front of Myungjun’s unseeing gaze.

It takes another beat for him to gather his wits, looking up at the captain with a bewildered expression. “The Centaurian captain… and a couple guards requested to… to board our ship and speak with us…”

“We expected at least that much,” Bin chides impatiently, inching closer. “What _else_ did the captain say?”

Myungjun swallows hard, covering his face with his hands. “The captain… oh god, I’ve been speaking to him this entire time! What if I said something stupid they remove Earth from the peace treaties?! We’ll be exiles! No, wait, they’ll probably exterminate us all anyway—” his voice grows muffled in his hands, making less sense than he did before.

Jinwoo suddenly pulls Myungjun’s hands away from his face, shaking him a little to regain his attention before speaking slowly and evenly. “Calm down! No one is gonna be exiled or exterminated, that doesn’t even make sense. You sounded totally respectful and said everything perfectly, just like you always do. Now calm down and tell us what happened.” Myungjun nods rapidly along to Jinwoo’s words, eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to force himself to believe even though the only language the rest of the crew knows how to speak is English, so they had no way of actually knowing what he said to the Centaurians.

“Right, right, I guess I really should probably tell you all that the captain is a Centaurian prince, shouldn’t I?” he finally blurts out, the words spilling so quickly they almost blend together, but everyone still hears him nonetheless. Sanha, who picked the most opportune moment to walk into the control room, overhears as well, his jaw dropping as he shrieks “A _prince_?!” and all hell breaks loose aboard ASTRO.

 

 

 

It takes Jinwoo a couple minutes to regain control of the crew, after having a mild panic issue himself. Now they’re all lined up along the wall in the hangar in preparation for the prince and his guards to board, the ramp already open and waiting. Icey air blows inside, the tips of their hair growing frosty, but their spacesuits and headgear help maintain their normal body temperatures so they don’t even notice the cold, even as the erratic wind flops between picking up and dying.

“Is it even legal for us to speak to him?” Sanha wonders aloud as Jinwoo paces in front of them. The captain appears unruffled, his hands behind his back as walks back and forth, but they knew better than to believe he was relaxed. “Because I think we’re about to break several of our own laws right now, forget the Centaurian ones.”

“I really don’t think we have choice,” Minhyuk replies, feet tapping nervously. He was jumping in place earlier to release some of his energy, but all it did was test his stamina. Next to him, Myungjun is biting at his lips, staring fixatedly at the ground and probably replaying his conversations with the prince a million times over in his head, triple-checking if he somehow managed to doom all of humanity. Jinwoo reaches over and taps on the invisible faceguard of the liaison’s headgear to stop him, startling the elder when blue pixels break his gaze, and he looks up to meet the captain’s eyes.

“You’ve already spoken to him, right? I could hear him through your comm and he sounded calm to me,” Jinwoo reassures him, “you did amazing, don’t worry.” Myungjun smiles a little at that, ducking his head again, but at least he’s not biting on his lips anymore. Jinwoo turns to look at Bin, appraising him. “You’ve been awfully quiet this entire time. What’s on your mind?”

Bin just shrugs, not entirely sure himself, but there is an uneasy feeling curdling in the pit of his stomach. He thinks he might be the only one who remembers that the prince had been asking about him before, but he doesn’t want to mention it either in case it makes everyone even more frightened. They were trained to carry out life-threatening missions that tested their physical and mental capabilities, not be political representatives that had the power to doom their entire race if they slipped up even a little. In that moment, he wished that he’d paid more attention in class about interplanetary relations instead of putting all his time and effort into training. Bin didn’t even know a single word in the Centaurian language except how to ask for food.

“Guys, oh my god they’re here!” Sanha whisper-yells, squinting into the blizzard that just started seconds ago. They all leaned over to see and, indeed, he was right because there was a group of people who were obviously guards wearing black and gold cloaks, all making their way through the storm with the hoods over their heads shadowing their faces. They had their hands stretched outwards, a filmy bubble encasing them to shield from the weather. Even from this distance Bin could see how large and powerful the guards appeared; he could just make out the barest hints of a white and gold cloak among them in the center, most likely the prince, but it was even harder to see him.

It didn’t take very long for them to reach the opening of the hangar, the guards separating down the center like the red sea and lining the entrance, as if blocking any means of escape. The wind and snow that had originally been blowing in stopped immediately, and Bin realized that the filmy bubble from before was now probably covering the entire ship. The prince remained in the center and made his way inside to meet the crew, the guards watching him carefully as he walked up the sloped platform alone. He was significantly smaller than the ones in black but he was still lanky in height. It felt like he had his own ambiance when he stopped before them, and Jinwoo, for all his nervousness, stepped forward to greet the prince in a very composed manner. He bowed in the traditional Centaurian custom, with four fingers over his chest and bending slightly at the waist, and the prince returns the same before straightening up.

Without saying a word, the prince pulls back his hood to reveal a mask, the guards copying his move by removing their hoods as well. They didn’t have masks however, and the crew could see all their faces clearly. It was the first time most of them had seen Centaurians up close, their skin not as thin as they’d heard of, although there was a slight glow to their bones that made them appear translucent, allowing you to see hints of their organs just like the rumors said. They all had two stubbed horns on one side of their faces, the exact color of gold in its metal form, and had a ranging number of eyes, although most of the guards had only two. Even with these differences, they really did share many human-like features, right up to the colors of their skin and hair, but it was obvious that they were Centaurian.

Bin stops staring at them when the prince speaks to the captain, and although the sounds that come out of his mouth are in a foreign tongue, they can tell it’s a question. Jinwoo looks towards Myungjun, who still seems nervous but steps forward nonetheless. When he responds to the prince, his voice doesn’t shake, and Bin feels proud of him. After talking for a few seconds, Myungjun turns towards them to translate. “His highness is asking if we are able to remove our masks. He says he will remove his if we do as well, as a sign of respect, and that we can close the entrance of the ship if we need to. I think he means our headgear.”

“Tell him we don’t need it,” Jinwoo replies, immediately pressing the button on his neck to retract it, and they all follow suit. Their bones weren’t the only things that were reinforced; after passing the physical exam to join the special operations unit, their lungs were genetically modified to create its own oxygen for up to seventy-two hours without help, granted that they breathed oxygen for at least that amount of time beforehand. Even their skin was thicker than normal humans and less vulnerable to toxic external factors.

The second they remove their headgear Bin can tell that all the aliens are looking directly at him, even the prince through his mask. Bin’s interest in the other group had made him momentarily forget that he might be the reason ASTRO had to land on this planet in the first place, and the sick feeling in his stomach returns ten-fold. He notices Jinwoo glance at him with the corner of his eye, detecting the change in atmosphere as well.

“My apologies,” the prince suddenly says in English with the slightest hint of an accent Bin has never heard before in his life. “Due to your talented liaison, I thoughtlessly assumed that you all could speak Reäv as well.” His voice sounded different now that he was speaking a familiar language, less smooth and more careful, like he learned it from reading text rather than from another person. The prince gently reaches for his mask, the object glowing when it contacts his hand, transforming into the same filmy substance the other Centaurians created their shields from before vanishing.

The face behind the mask leaves everyone speechless. For a moment, Bin is convinced that the prince is a human, except that he’s never seen a human look quite that pretty before, either. There isn’t an alien glow to his skin, or foreign markings of any kind. He has a pair of eyes with gold irises, pink lips and cheeks, and a human set of pearly teeth behind a gentle, human-like smile. The only way you could tell he was Centaurian at all were his horns, not as stubbed as the guards’ but still gold, curving slightly towards the top of his head. He had three of them, two on one side and a third on the other, a clear sign of Centaurian royalty.

When no one says anything, the prince’s smile grows, as if he expected their inability to talk after seeing him. His eyes curve into crescents and Bin is even more reluctant to believe the prince is even remotely of Earth, because humans just couldn’t be that beautiful. “My diplomatic English name is Eunwoo,” he introduces. “I am the 28th prince of Centaurus, as well as the only living hybrid human representative in the running for the Centaurian crown. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to withhold using Eunwoo's real name for now, but it'll be used in later chapters, so look forward to it! I'm pretty lazy with editing so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, but leave comments if you can! I love hearing what everyone has to say! :)
> 
> (Also Astro's comeback is almost here!!!!!)


	3. The Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been binge watching so many Astro videos on YouTube that I forget to make time for writing, lol. I'm in a bit of a rush and I didn't really edit this, so sorry for any mistakes! I made this drawing of alien prince Eunwoo when I was still coming up with the story, so he basically looks like this in the fic with but with a few differences (i.e. his pointed ears, the markings on his temple, as well as his outfit, which I decided to change for plot reasons).

_Eunwoo, The 28th Prince of Centaurus_

 

A stunned silence follows the prince’s words, confusion evident on their faces. A Centaurian-Earthling hybrid? After literally thousands of years of unsuccessful procreation that kept the universe on the edge of an impending intergalactic war against humankind, how was this even possible? And why had no one heard of him before? If the current monarch of Centaurus successfully sired a half-human child, every living thing in the universe would have known.

Yet, despite these suspicious conditions, Eunwoo did, without a doubt, look irrefutably human. Even if any of them actually had reservations over this, they couldn’t do anything about it because they were assigned to follow orders unquestioningly; there was also the tiny caveat of knowledge that their government must have had a genuine motive to send them to the Centaurian prince without any hesitation.

When they each timidly return the prince’s greeting, Eunwoo asks their captain if ASTRO has an area of some sort where he can speak to them away from prying eyes. The crew is surprised when the other aliens do not follow them inside, the Centaurian guards still as statues as they watch the hangar entrance close before them, as if making sure no one goes in or out. When it is properly sealed, Jinwoo finally leads the way further in with the prince a half-step behind him, the rest following them both at a good distance.

“Don’t your guards need to follow you around?” Sanha wonders aloud from the back, voicing all their collective thoughts and remembering a beat too late who he is addressing. He squeaks when he adds “y-your highness” at the end, to somehow amend asking so brazenly, but Eunwoo doesn’t seem to mind at all, even managing to look effortlessly charming while beaming over his shoulder.

“No, you all seem so terrified that I could probably give everyone a heart attack just by sneezing suddenly,” he jokes good-naturedly, giggling like he said the funniest thing. No one laughs with him, offering uncomfortable, alarmed smiles instead; was that really something he could do? On accident? Catching the tense atmosphere immediately, the prince stops laughing and awkwardly clears his throat instead, promptly switching to a more earnest reply. “We left my home base on such a short notice that I did not have time to bring enough trustworthy guards, but otherwise, yes, someone would have come in with me. For now, they just need to make sure no one attacks us while we’re in here.”

Because of how humanlike Centaurians appear, it is easy to forget that the emperor of Centaurus is strong enough to singlehandedly power the three planets he rules over, so it would make sense for Eunwoo to possibly possesses that same amount of power if he hopes to rule the monarchy one day. Suddenly, being alone with the alien prince is somehow more nerve-wracking than when his guards were flanking him. The silence that follows the end of the exchange turns borderline unbearable, especially because the Centaurian guards’ barrier outside successfully muffles all external sound. At this point, no one is looking directly at the prince’s face for fear of staring too long, both out of apprehension over the power he may or may not have and awe of how beautiful he is.

Well, except for Bin.

Without even realizing it himself he somehow managed to move closer, just a step or two behind but enough to the right that he has a clear view of the prince’s profile. Bin hasn’t been paying attention to anything that was being said, he just keeps glancing over at the prince, almost as if he can’t help himself. It doesn’t take Eunwoo long to notice the hasty movements with his peripheral vision, ducking his head to unsuccessfully hide an amused chuckle, and Bin realizes reluctantly that he should probably to stop gawking. It’s hard though, especially when the prince doesn’t seem averse in the least. In Bin’s eyes Eunwoo seems gentle and maybe too trusting to follow them without any backup; the Centaurian guards must be extremely apprehensive, even if they didn’t show it before.

The longer Bin observes, the more he notices, like how young Eunwoo seems to be, and the way his eyes sparkle even in the dim lighting of ASTRO’s long corridors. Is it possible for a person’s lips be that pink? Or was that a Centaurian thing? The pilot had many important questions and none of them had to do with politics or their mission. He must have stared too long because he suddenly makes eye contact, startled when Eunwoo offers him a shy smile. Bin finds himself automatically returning it without a second thought, a strange feeling rising in his chest when the other’s expression brightens. Their secret moment goes unnoticed by everyone else, the prince seeming reassured by Bin’s reaction, and the pilot realizes right then that Eunwoo must feel just as uneasy as they do and wonders if their fear of him is uncalled for.

They soon reach the main conference room near the heart of the spacecraft, which features a circular table in the center with six seats spaced evenly around it and a holosphere apparatus in the middle. Eunwoo takes the lead then, walking towards the table with a curious expression on his face. When he carefully rests his hand on the surface, the apparatus comes to life without any prompting and the holosphere that flickers to existence is the brightest they’ve ever seen it be. With the prince’s back towards them, they could just barely make out a trail of small gold circles glowing along Eunwoo’s spine, even through his heavy white cloak, growing brighter as he puts in more power.

The prince, not realizing the display he’s putting on, makes a pleased sound, looking up at the ceiling and startling everyone when all the lights and everything electrically powered in the vicinity flash on and off in a playful pattern. The seats, which are attached to the floor on rails, twirl and glide around as if they are dancing. “Wow, this is my first time tapping into something not Centaurian made,” he gushes, the delight in his voice barely contained. “In the end, machines are machines, no matter who makes them. What a discovery!”

When Eunwoo looks over at them in childlike excitement, you can see that the three golden horns on his head are glowing brightly as well. Bin ogles the sight in absolute awe, curious if Eunwoo’s horns are the source of his power and if the hint of light along his spine were golden horns, too. He doesn’t get to dwell on that thought for very long because suddenly Eunwoo steps away from the table, hand recoiling to his chest as everything goes back to normal and he stops radiating light. His eyes are wide open, as if he just remembered that he wasn’t alone and was just caught doing something wrong.

“S-Sorry about that,” he stutters, gaze lowering in embarrassment. “Look at me, already apologizing for a second time today. I… I should have asked before I did that. This ship probably has information and other things stored on it that I should not know, and I just… without even asking… I apologize again.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, as if expecting to be reprimanded, and Bin wonders if something like this happened before. Despite Eunwoo’s worries, the crew is still deciphering the sight they just witnessed. They’ve observed many different alien abilities in their lifetime, but nothing quite like this; the Centaurian prince was like an external processor as well as a power source, and if he could easily control an entire ship just by touching a table with one hand, they could only guess what else he could do.

Bin steps forward first, a question on the tip of his tongue that he was unsure if he could ask. When Eunwoo notices the movement and turns to look at him, worried eyes sparkling like jewels, the words spill out anyway. “Can your highness connect with living things, too? Living things like… like me. I have more android parts in my body than human,” Bin reveals, and in hindsight it was probably a bad idea to tell a Centaurian this, in case he really could control them like puppets and was actually planning on killing them after all. Except there was something so sincere and gentle about the prince that made it difficult to distrust him. As expected, the rest of the crew look on at Bin in disbelief, like they couldn’t believe what he just asked, but were just as curious to find out for themselves.

Eunwoo appears to be even more startled by the query than they do, his dark eyebrows furrowing as his expression twists contemplatively. “I… I honestly do not know. I have never attempted something like that,” he admits, considering the idea.

Before he can change his mind and chicken out, Bin steps even closer, holding out his arm. “Then this might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever asked, but could you try on me? Maybe?” he requests, concern beating out self-preservation. Eunwoo doesn’t seem to know how to react, lips parting as words fail him. Jinwoo steps forward then, intercepting Bin’s arm. They meet eyes, and the concern in the captain’s gaze makes his stomach twist.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, his voice low. He’s never been much for giving absolute orders, always taking their choices into consideration first and believing in the decisions of their unit, so he wouldn’t actually stop Bin if he really did want to find out.

The pilot nods with unwavering certainty. “I don’t know about the future, but I think it’s something we all need to know.” They hold gazes for a half-beat longer before Jinwoo returns the nod, letting go of his arm.

“Okay.”

Eunwoo watches the exchange, biting uneasily at his lower lip. “I hope I did not give everyone the impression that I would ever use my power to control others against their will,” he tells them, like this was an idea that truly disturbed him. “I am not an advocate of such cruel practices.”

“I think that’s why I’m asking you,” Bin replies honestly, finally striding all the way to the prince. Up close their gazes are level, and something about the lack of height difference is so strangely intimate that he feels lightheaded just by being near him. “I trust in my instincts, and … I don’t believe that your highness is as dangerous as we originally thought you were.”

Eunwoo ducks his head, the shy gesture almost familiar now that Bin has seen so much of it already. The prince wasn’t as composed or petrifying as they all expected him to be. He was young and unsure, just like them, and that made him feel more like a friend than someone to fear. The most terrifying thing about him, in Bin’s opinion, is how gorgeous and endearing he is, and how much more that fact affects Bin’s emotions than the idea that it could all be a lie.

“No one has ever spoken to me so frankly like this before,” Eunwoo replies with a timid chuckle. “It is… nice.” When the prince looks back up, eyes curved into crescents, a strange urge to hold him nags at the back of the pilot’s consciousness, but he chooses not to reflect on it. Instead he focuses on the natural pink of Eunwoo’s cheeks and the small blemish above his upper lip… which turns out to be a worse idea, so he meets his eyes again and speaks before his thoughts have a chance to go astray again. Being beautiful had to be a sin.

“So will you give it a go?”

Eunwoo nods, hesitantly reaching towards Bin. Everyone holds their breath in the moments prior to contact, and Bin realizes just a second before that the rest of the crew had moved closer to observe as well. When Eunwoo’s hand rests against Bin’s chest, the weight of it there feels like it could burn him alive, but that was more out of attraction than anything considering that Eunwoo wasn’t even glowing yet; Bin would blush if he weren’t so well-practiced in keeping a poker face.

Unaware of the pilot’s personal feelings, Eunwoo swallows audibly before closing his eyes and focusing a small amount of power through his body, the horns on his head giving off a dim glow instead of the confident brightness they had when controlling the ship. Straightaway, Bin feels a rush of energy coursing through his body, like he could run from one end of the universe and back over and over without tiring. The prince instantly senses the CPU embedded in Bin’s brain, how it connects to hundreds of different elements throughout his body. He can feel the strength of the metal reinforcing Bin’s bones, the view of the camera embedded in his eye as he looks at Eunwoo, the powerful sensors in his fingertips, ears, and nose, as well as the millions of nanobots speeding through his bloodstream, ready to heal at a moment’s notice.

Still, Eunwoo finds it much easier to connect to the comm device on Bin’s temple, the weapons at his waist, and the workings of the spacesuit he wears, than Bin’s actual body. Even when he focuses more and more power, there is nothing he can really do except feel the way Bin is feeling, the controls just out of his reach; he figures that this is probably because Bin’s brain powers the CPU and all the other units inside him and not the other way around. The pilot said that he is more android than human, but Eunwoo would beg to differ.

The prince swallows again, this time extremely self-conscious of the fact that he is not removing his hand despite knowing that he is done checking. Bin’s emotions – his positivity, his kindness, his vitality, his fears – directly flows into Eunwoo, and the sensation is new and strangely addicting. The trace of attraction that he finds hidden among them both startles and makes Eunwoo blush; he hopes his ears don’t redden, although it might already be too late. Since it is his first time doing something like this, he could just be reading it incorrectly, and it was possible that Bin was thinking of someone else entirely.

When he finally pulls away he can feel Bin staring questioningly at his face, but Eunwoo can’t seem to meet Bin’s intense gaze just yet, knowing full well that he’ll embarrass himself if he does. He pretends to contemplate the experience to buy himself more time to gather his wits before finally looking up. “I could sense the mechanisms in your body, but there was nothing I could do about it,” he finally reveals.

The collective sigh of relief that the crew lets out at the same time is comical to witness, and they laugh when they realize what just happened. Eunwoo beams as he observes them; he recalls reading somewhere that humans grow similar the more time they spend together and was always curious about the fact, and now witnessing it firsthand truly amazes him. He wonders if he is capable of that same kind of adaptability, but he’s never been around humans long enough to find out something like that.

Once everyone calms, Jinwoo stands next to Bin to directly address the prince, the rest following suit and feeling more comfortable now that they were sure Eunwoo wasn’t out to get them. “Your highness, if it isn’t too presumptuous of me to ask, can we know why we are here?”

Eunwoo nods rapidly, although he loses his smile just as fast. “I do not know how much you understand about Centaurian politics, but things are… very bad right now. I’m sure you’ve heard about the emperor announcing some time ago that he was ready to select the future ruler among his offspring. All planets involved are coveting this position specifically, seeing as the peacetime agreements will eventually lead to the creation of a universal government – this basically means that the next monarch will, undoubtedly, become the first leader of the known universe.”

Bin had never thought about the situation all the way through, but now that he considers it, what he says makes complete sense. Although it would take a while for any form of government to be decided upon, when it finally does come to fruition, a Centaurian monarch would be the obvious choice. They had the influence and power, as well as the heretic genes that allow them to mix with other species, making them the indisputable choice. “As you have probably figured out by now, many alien nations would benefit from the removal of humankind from this competition entirely. The moment any other planet has this power, there is nothing protecting Earth from intergalactic war, not even the Centaurians,” Eunwoo explains, and the realization that this could happen within the next 100 years is bone chilling. “Except… no one planned for me.”

The prince reaches towards the table once more, glancing at the captain for permission. Jinwoo nods, gesturing for everyone to take a seat. Eunwoo pulls up the holosphere again and gains access to the nearest satellite in record time; immediately a series of faces fill up hologram, all Centaurian hybrids such as himself. “Many Centaurian-mixed species have already assumed the throne these past few thousand years, except for a human one. It was assumed that it was not possible, yet a couple years ago when the current emperor took on a human concubine, she became pregnant immediately.”

The face of the current emperor shows up on the hologram, a true Centaurian by blood, as they tend to cycle back every couple thousand years. “When I was born successfully, he realized that if other nations knew of my existence, the number of attempts on my life before I grew to adulthood and could fairly participate in the crowning competition would be impossible to keep track of. After alerting your human government, he sent my mother to an Earthling mining colony on the planet Cygni Bb, nearly on the opposite side of the known universe from Centaurus. Your ruler dispatched some officials to check my condition, and when it was confirmed I wouldn’t die of poor health, they wisely chose to keep my existence a secret. While I grew up there I also prepared for the eventual competition against 32 of my siblings, all delegates for different alien worlds just like myself. However, earlier today, just months before the crowning, my existence and location were compromised.”

Eunwoo brings up several news broadcasts and transmissions on the holosphere, all currently live and discussing a tipoff about a Centaurian-Human prince in hiding on Cygni Bb. There are no clear pictures of him but there are several different recordings of his escape, the streams showing hordes of spaceships filling the orange sky of Cygni as they all but completely obliterate the small mining colony there. There is one particular shot that grabs Bin’s attention, a shaky drone recording of the prince sprinting across the top of a collapsing building. Without warning he uses the recoil of a barrier to launch himself onto a very familiar looking ship flying low enough for him to land on, identical to the heavily damaged one currently outside, and instantaneously taking control of it from the outside. Impressed, Bin looks towards the prince in a new light; he didn’t expect for Eunwoo to be so agile, but then again, he wasn’t raised in the way most Centaurians are.

“As you can clearly see, I was attacked as soon as word got out,” Eunwoo continues, switching between videos and broadcasts. “I quickly gathered a handful of trustworthy guards and seized one of the many cruisers, but since we were still under heavy attack, we could only get so far. We didn’t have enough time to wait before jump driving so we stalled as much as possible before selecting the last place anyone would suspect, which is where we are now. Of course, we won’t be safe for very long. Being a candidate for the crown, you can imagine many people want me dead, and not just my siblings.”

“So are we here to find your highness a haven?” Minhyuk asks, and Bin notes that it’s the co-pilot’s first time speaking since Eunwoo boarded ASTRO. “We were careful to remain unnoticed when we were entering, but I’m sure by now that whichever gang controls this district must have noticed two alien spacecraft just off the edge of their territory. Even if we leave now, I don’t think it will take long for your adversaries to put things together and mark this ship.” His point is strong and Eunwoo doesn’t know how to reply, chewing on his lip again.

“Yes, I did not know what else to do except to ask your government for assistance,” he finally responds, appearing stumped. “When they told me that they were sending a special operations unit with an Alpha-Class pilot, I assumed that we would be able to think of a plan together and manage to leave this planet undetected… but you are correct, I did not take into consideration the locals.”

“You didn’t have time to think about that,” Bin says, suddenly speaking up for him. “It was either go or die.” He offers the prince a reassuring smile, which is returned to him softly. Jinwoo looks curiously at Bin from across the table, but chooses not to say anything. Next to him, Sanha quietly clears his throat, still nervous in the presence of the prince. His gaze flits between Eunwoo and the holosphere, licking his lips before talking.

“I, uh, happen to have a close contact in Aymara who can supply us with an armed spacecraft on a short notice,” he tells them, staring resolutely at the table as he picks at the seam of his spacesuit. “It won’t be large, but more than enough for two or three people. I… I helped build it not long ago, and I know that it could easily pass as a personal corvette.”

No one says anything for a moment, taking in this new piece of information about their ship engineer. If he had a close contact in Aymara, the capital of Gilese 876d, then the chances of the youngest being from this planet is very high. Bin had always assumed everyone in their team was from a gen-ship like him and Minhyuk, but now he realizes that maybe he presumed too hastily. Sanha’s restless, absentminded personality suddenly makes much more sense now that they know he’s not from a gen-ship.

The youngest sinks deeper into his seat, obviously embarrassed, and clears his throat again. “O-Or not! I just thought that, you know, maybe—”

“Actually, that just might do it,” Myungjun cuts in, glancing over at Jinwoo expectantly. “If we leave his highness with Bin and take off on ASTRO first, we would be able to distract the enemies long enough for them to leave on the corvette unnoticed.”

“And I know we’d all bet everything on Bin’s ability to fly a spacecraft of any size through the asteroid shell,” Minhyuk adds, looking eagerly at Bin and waiting for him to confirm.

Bin nods his head confidently, turning to Sanha again. “Of course I can do it. How powerful is the shield generator?”

Sanha perks up at the question, responding with an excited, toothy grin. “I worked on that ship for basically all of last year and there isn’t any other like her. She has my seal of approval.”

“Your highness? What do you say about this plan?” Jinwoo asks the prince, and they all turn to look at him. “Although Bin is no Centaurian guard, his combat skills are one of the best.”

Flustered by the sudden praise, Bin drops his gaze to his lap, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. When he looks up again, Eunwoo appears to still be deep in thought, dark brows furrowed again. “I don’t know how I feel about consenting to allow the rest of you to take off as decoys. I am the root of the problem. I can’t just let others to take the blow for me.”

“You are also Earth’s only chance at survival,” the captain reminds him, and their eyes meet. An exchange happens there that is undecipherable to the rest of them; perhaps a connection that only captains have, but Bin’s inquisitiveness nags at the back of his mind. After another moment of hesitation, Eunwoo sighs yieldingly. He looks over at Bin with an expression says he is willing to put all his trust in the pilot if he is willing to trust him back, and Bin gives him a slight nod of agreement.

“Okay then. For the future of humankind,” Eunwoo affirms solemnly.

 _For the future of humankind_ , Bin repeats in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH this was a little difficult to write since the story basically begins here, otherwise I would have posted it way earlier. The real action starts in the next chapter though, so look forward to it! Please comment if you can, like I've said before, I really love reading feedback~
> 
> Also, I made an [Astro blog](http://astrobinu.tumblr.com) a couple days ago, if anyone is interested. There's only a handful of reblogs for now, but eventually I want to fill prompts and stuff there. Speaking of which, I have a [multifandom K-pop blog](http://exob.tumblr.com) that I've been using for nearly 6 years now (please save me from Tumblr).


	4. Aymara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for lazy editing again!! I don't like to keep going back when I'm on a roll. This chapter got really long and I've been trying to figure out how post this for 3 days now. THREE. But I managed it.
> 
> On another note, I thought JinJin was my bias wrecker but MJ just won't let me live, lol.

_[Aymara, the capital of Gilese 876d](https://cdn.allwallpaper.in/wallpapers/2400x1350/11052/fantasy-art-artwork-landscape-2400x1350-wallpaper.jpg) _

 

Since an hour ago Bin hasn’t been able to stop cursing his act first, think later attitude. When he originally agreed to be the Centaurian prince’s guard during the months preceding the crowning, he had been so eager over the idea of a challenge that he didn’t fully grasp what the job actually entailed.

Things like being alone with him. Within tight quarters. While stranded in space.

Not that Eunwoo is unpleasant; far from it, really. Up to now the prince has proven himself to be the literal embodiment of many qualities Bin finds alluring in one, exceptionally beautiful package. He needs keep his distance otherwise the situation may turn into an extra problem for them both – not that he dares to think Eunwoo finds him attractive in any way, but burdening someone so nice with unwanted attention will just make Bin feel like an awful person. He figures that so long as he appears calm and objective, the prince will never know about his fascination, and then everything will be just fine.

As an experienced soldier and pilot, Bin takes pride in his self-discipline, but he also knows himself better than that because his downfall in this type of scenario is his extreme friendliness and eagerness to please. He hopes that Sanha was being modest about the size of the corvette, otherwise the universe would truly be testing his patience. As corvettes are commercial spacecraft that vary in size, they are almost always limited to one pilot since they are essentially flyable recreational homes, so the actual scope of it is in the wind until he finally sees it for himself.

“Am I wearing this correctly?” Eunwoo’s voice breaks into his racing thoughts, the pilot looking away from where he was contemplatively holding his chin in the corridor. The prince is decked out in Bin’s spare spacesuit, looking very much a part of ASTRO’s crew even with his gold horns and bright eyes glinting in the washed-out lighting. The fit on him is a little on the looser side since Bin and Minhyuk’s extra combat training with Jinwoo is paying off well, but Sanha’s suit had been too tight considering how slender and gangly he is, so it was better than nothing. Later they would need to invest in more casual clothing for blending-in purposes, but lucky for them the military-grade spacesuits won’t stand out at all in a crime-heavy city like Aymara.

Bin circles Eunwoo in lieu of replying, double checking the fastenings and straps by tugging on them and tightening where they were clumsily bound. “I wish I had some of my older suits from last year, I think those would have fit your highness perfectly,” he murmurs as he works, more to himself than to the prince; a formfitting spacesuit worked best when it actually matched the wearer.

“That is vaguely insulting,” Eunwoo scoffs playfully, holding his arms out of the way as he observes the pilot adjusting the straps on his side, committing the method to memory for later so he won’t need help a second time. “We are not that different in size. I just use my abilities more than my muscle.” He seems more at ease with Bin since they got along so well earlier, so he flexes his thighs with a cheeky smile when Bin checks the clasps there. Bin just barely stops himself from laughing, lips pressing together in a thin line as he tries not to react. _Keep your distance_ , he reminds himself, repeating the words like a mantra in his head, but the prince is more observant than Bin gives him credit for and he catches on immediately.

“You know, you can laugh around me. Just because I am vying for the crown does not mean I have no sense of humor,” Eunwoo tells him, still watching the other man, mistaking Bin’s lack of reaction as an attempt to be courteous towards him rather than a suppression of affection. “You can be honest with me, too. After all, we are in this together for the next few months. I think we should take down some walls if we want to get through this successfully.”

The pilot looks up from where he kneels on the floor, meeting the prince’s eyes and realizing that he is right. Should he confess his thoughts? Except Bin didn’t quite understand himself how he felt just yet; it was too early to tell, after all. He wonders if he should just be upfront so that Eunwoo can shut him down before his feelings have a chance to develop into… whatever he thinks they might be. After all, it was best to smother this kind of thing before it became less of a passing interest and more of an investment that can never go anywhere.

It feels like they are paused there for hours before Bin makes his decision, when in fact it had barely been a minute. He swallows to calm himself before he finally opens his mouth. “Honestly speaking, I’m scared,” Bin admits, staring back up at the prince. His voice came out much softer than he meant for it to.

Eunwoo’s brows furrow, expression a mixture of concern and bewilderment as he gapes down at the kneeling man. “Of what, exactly? This mission? Why didn’t you say anything before?”

Bin stands up then, reminded of their similar height when he realizes how close they are, eyes level with one another. The prince doesn’t step away however, unaware of the situation, or maybe not caring, so Bin can’t bring himself to back off either. “No,” he replies, licking his lips in hesitation. “Of you.”

“ _Me_?” Eunwoo looks hurt now, those pink lips of his parting in disbelief; Bin seriously needs to stop staring at them, but they were extremely distracting. “But I… I thought we were getting along?” Even his shoulders were sagging, expression disheartened. Finding the reaction incredibly cute, Bin can’t help but smile brightly at him, unable to resist the urge to stroke Eunwoo’s hair. The friendly gesture is exceedingly intimate, especially to someone who is a prince, but Bin’s naturally outgoing nature doesn’t make him realize this soon enough. Eunwoo is stunned into silence, unable to process what is happening even as his ears burn; Centaurians were not a culturally affectionate people, and it didn’t help that he was raised practically by strangers, although he enjoys the interaction more than he’d like to admit.

“We’re getting along just fine, your highness,” Bin assures him, finally removing his hand.

“Then what is it?” Eunwoo asks when he rediscovers his voice, at last noticing how close they are standing and inching backwards when he thinks Bin isn’t paying him any attention.

The pilot falters for a moment, that bright smile of his losing a bit of its confidence as he looks down at his shoes to gather his thoughts. It doesn’t take him long to make up his mind though, already looking up again. “In all honesty, I find you unbelievably beautiful,” he confesses, searching the other’s gaze for a reaction. “I don’t know how I’m going to avoid being attracted to you, but… for this mission, I will try my best.”

With that finally off his chest, Bin feels incredibly light. He laughs at Eunwoo’s priceless expression, the prince’s jaw slack in disbelief as his brain attempts to comprehend Bin’s words. “You don’t have to worry, your highness,” Bin assures him teasingly, unnecessarily fixing one last strap on the prince’s torso. “You won’t even notice a thing.”

Eunwoo’s face colors instantly, and he finally steps away properly so he can have space to think. “You are unbelievably direct,” he chokes out, voice unsteady. Bin’s smile only widens, which the prince finds extremely frustrating for unknown reasons. Before he can contemplate why, he jumps in shock when the gate to the supply room slides opens again and Sanha ungracefully stumbles out in Eunwoo’s imperial attire. The engineer trips over the white cloak from where it drags at his feet before regaining his balance by clinging to the edge of the doorway. He doesn’t notice the strange atmosphere in the corridor, more concerned with his own appearance.

“I-I don’t think this is right,” Sanha tells them fretfully, no doubt feeling uncomfortable in the traditional Centaurian garb. Despite being a little baggier on him, his ankles still stuck out a good couple centimeters from under the hem of the pants, although the shoe size was thankfully the same. It was probably the best he’s looked since Bin first saw him, completely different from his typical grimy, unflattering work ensemble, but Sanha didn’t seem to feel the same way. “I look nothing like your highness. There is no way anyone will fall for this.”

In contrast to the engineer’s panicked expression, Eunwoo has the brightest smile stretching across his face. He pushes his Bin-induced frazzled thoughts to the back of his mind and appraises the taller man with a satisfied look instead, reaching behind Sanha’s head to pull up the hood. “See, I told you you’d look great!” he exclaims, readjusting Sanha’s wavy fringe, which for once didn’t appear unruly.

Bin wonders just how long Eunwoo spent helping him comb through it earlier in the room, and how on earth Sanha let the prince come close enough to do so when he couldn’t even talk to him without choking on his own spit. That didn’t seem to be a problem anymore, however, what with Sanha easily leaning down so Eunwoo could assist him. They looked chummy already. Maybe Bin should exchange clothes with the prince too, if it meant they could get closer. A feeling he recognizes as the early stages of jealousy causes him to backtrack; he’s not _supposed_ to get closer to Eunwoo – that was the entire point of his declaration earlier.

As soon as Sanha is presentable, Eunwoo closes his eyes and begins to focus his power. Whatever those mystery lights are on his spine, they shine brighter outside the shield of his heavy cloak, even through the spacesuit. He runs his hands over his glowing horns and they disappear right before their eyes, as if they were never even there. He reaches out and runs his fingers over the same area on Sanha’s head, and just like that, the horns materialize as if the younger man had been born with them. Sanha, whose eyes had been clenched tightly shut, finally opens them to see what happened. Bin gasps in awe when he notices that the engineer’s eyes are now the same gold color as Eunwoo’s.

“This works essentially like an illusion, except that they are really on you right now and not me,” the prince explains, tilting Sanha’s head and checking his handiwork. “Kind of like how I summoned my mask earlier – it actually exists somewhere in this universe, but I can physically bring it over whenever I want, but it’ll always return when I’m done. Ultimately, these will stay on your head unless I use my abilities again, since I can only perform one skill at a time.”

“This is incredible,” Bin exclaims, stepping closer and rotating Sanha’s face towards him to see for himself. The horns were truly attached to the engineer’s head now, completely sealing the deal on Sanha’s decoy Centaurian prince façade. When Bin turns to Eunwoo so he can ask more questions about how his powers work, he notices that the prince has side-stepped away from him, cheeks flushed and still unsure how to feel about what transpired before.

Except that is not what makes Bin’s voice jam in the back of his throat. Dressed in a human spacesuit and missing his horns, the things that made Eunwoo seem so unfamiliar and inaccessible were essentially gone. His ethereal beauty, which they reasoned came from being half-Centaurian, could now be seen for what it was and not something alien. As fragile and human as he now fundamentally is, the prince was breathtaking in every regard. Even Sanha couldn’t stop glancing at him, even though he looked pretty first-rate himself. Bin realizes in that instant that his self-burdened duty to remain impartial towards Eunwoo will prove to be much more demanding than originally anticipated – and he had already been anticipating it to be very, very hard.

The pilot reverts to his original state of emotional distress at the sight of Eunwoo as they return to the hangar, sneaking glimpses like before except this time he actively makes sure not to be seen. Sanha walks a little ahead of them, still self-conscious of his new look, fidgeting with his outfit every few seconds. The tall engineer keeps touching his – Eunwoo’s?? – recently acquired horns, unable to believe for himself that they were really on to his head. They didn’t offer him any extra energy or crazy alien abilities like you would think, since they were technically placed onto him rather than spliced, but a peculiar sense of confidence slowly starts to build inside him anyway. It makes him realize how dressing nicely had its perks, especially when before he never really noticed his appearance, more obsessed with machines than himself.

The other three ASTRO crew members as well as the few Centaurian guards are all awkwardly waiting for them in the reopened hangar, not exactly talking to each other but still acknowledging each other’s presence by making uncomfortable eye-contact every few minutes. Minhyuk is the first to spot them approaching from the corner of his eye, immediately turning around and locking onto Sanha, who walks out first. The engineer offers the shorter man an embarrassed smile, asking with his expression how he looked, but Minhyuk is frozen in place, eyebrows disappearing into his fringe.

“Oh, _wow_ ,” Myungjun voices for everyone as the rest of them turn to assess the scene. “Am I hallucinating? Or have his highness and Sanha swapped races?”

Eunwoo grins at the liaison’s wit. “It is a bit of a long-winded explanation, but the main idea is that so long as I do not use my abilities for anything else, we will continue to look like this,” he clarifies, although less detailed than before.

“To be honest, I wasn’t very sure about our plan, but Sanha makes for a rather convincing Centaurian prince,” Jinwoo remarks, stepping up and patting the engineer’s back fondly. Sanha smiles down at him, feeling more assured immediately. For a brief second the captain’s gaze flits mischievously over to the dry-mouthed co-pilot, before he adds, “Sanha cleans up rather nicely, don’t you think, Minhyuk?”

Minhyuk, not expecting to be questioned so unexpectedly, chokes when he tries to speak and his face turns red in mortification. The other crew members laugh at his expense, apart from Sanha who just looks confused by the reaction and wonders why Minhyuk isn’t saying anything to him. Despite not previously knowing about Minhyuk’s crush, Eunwoo figures it out straightaway – which really says something about Sanha’s obliviousness – and lets out an amused giggle along with them, ducking his head to hide his face as he seems to do if he’s feeling shy when they all turn to look at him.

“Dressed in an Earthling spacesuit, his highness sure looks like a part of our unit,” Jinwoo comments, assessing Eunwoo’s appearance.

“Yeah, except his highness is a hell of a lot prettier than all of us,” Myungjun jokes, eyes twinkling. “Especially you, captain.” Everyone laughs again, and Bin catches Eunwoo glancing at him from the corner of his eye before looking away immediately, suddenly deep in thought. Bin wonders what the prince is thinking about, filing it in the back of his mind to ask later if he gets a chance.

Right then increasingly loud noises erupt from outside the hangar, interrupting their discussion, and they rush out to see what is happening. A mass of Gilesians are making their way towards the large outer barrier protecting both the cruiser and their ship, likely gang members from the nearby district judging by their flags and banners, all riding on various airborne devices despite the nasty weather knocking them around. Jinwoo immediately activates his headgear, signaling for the rest of them to follow suit as he pulls out his weapon and takes his position.

“Looks like it’s finally show time,” Bin says, removing his comm device first and tossing it back inside the hangar. Once they were in separate galaxies, the devices would be virtually useless. If something happened to the crew and their enemies gained access to the main transistor on Myungjun’s panel in the control room, they would be able to locate them in a heartbeat. Luckily it was basic training for special ops teams to know how to repurpose normal receivers, so Bin will at least be able to contact the team intermittently even if they couldn’t do the same back.

Next to him, Eunwoo activates his headgear at the same time as he does. “Here they come, just as your co-pilot said they would.”

“All that’s left is for Sanha to be seen boarding ASTRO,” Myungjun adds, and both he and Minhyuk go to flank the engineer.

The prince orders his personal guards to stop shielding the ship and assist the ones who oversaw the larger shield around the Centaurian cruiser. Eunwoo had already informed them much earlier about their plan to take off when the time was right, but he hadn’t told them that he wasn’t boarding in case there was a whistleblower. With the smaller barrier around ASTRO now gone, powerful winds made up of ice and snow beat at their bodies and bombard the side of the spaceship. Eunwoo’s heavy white cloak and hood shields Sanha’s body from the worst of it, but he still needs to lower his head to protect his face since he didn’t have a mask; they can’t delay too long otherwise he could get frostbite, but they still had to wait until the right moment for the plan to work.

With the vision guard on their headgear allowing them to see clearly despite the tempest, Jinwoo keeps an eye out on the horizon at the approaching mob, pulse rifle in hand. Bin and Eunwoo stand quite a way off to the right, waiting for a sign from the captain to get around the mob and begin heading towards Aymara where Sanha’s contact is anticipating their arrival. The two of them are in standard spacesuits meant for covert missions, unlike the rest of the crew, who are sporting the uniform military ones, although they had the same exact riggings. Bin turns on the particle buffers on his feet, generating an antigravity hoverboard. Eunwoo can’t do the same, unable to connect to the suit what with his abilities otherwise occupied, so Bin hands over his blaster instead.

Using the attachments on their spacesuits to keep Eunwoo behind him without needing to actively hold on, Bin motions at the external gears on the calves of his suit that double as footholds for the prince to stand on, since he can’t exactly step onto the board when it technically was just compacted molecules generated by his boots. Bin didn’t know what he was expecting when Eunwoo climbed onto him, but the prince weighed the same amount as a human civilian of the same size. Everything about Eunwoo was more human than Centaurian; _disregarding the horns and alien powers, of course_ , Bin muses to himself, shifting his weight to get a feel for Eunwoo’s lack of heaviness.

Then it dawns on him. He realizes with escalating horror that it may be possible for the prince’s body to be more like a regular human than a genetically modified one. Bin had a lot of mechanical parts inside him which not only doubled his weight but made him physically stronger, but Eunwoo hardly felt the same way, especially when Bin knew the prince couldn’t even use his barriers anymore to completely protect himself. All he had on him was the damned spacesuit that didn’t even fit properly.

And Bin.

The magnitude of the situation jolts the pilot back to reality; the moment they leave ASTRO behind, _he_ was the sole protector of the future of humankind. The government, regardless of what they were planning when they sent their unit to Gilese 876d, trusted in him and his training. His crew trusted him to do their half of the job while they were separated by millions of lightyears, keeping their enemies at bay so Bin could guard the prince. And most importantly, Eunwoo trusted him, despite how naïve he was to put every last bit of faith into skills that were still unknown to him. All the humor and exhilaration the pilot felt before abandons him in that one instant, replaced instead by resolve to see this mission through, regardless of what happens to him.

Even with all these thoughts, he feels chillingly calm, eyes still on the captain as he waits for the signal. He hadn’t realized until now that before, despite telling himself to keep distance, some part of him wanted Eunwoo to notice him differently than the way he noticed others. Bin had justified his sudden confession with that same reasoning, and treated Eunwoo like someone close to him instead a prince that was so far out of his league that he was from a different planet, literally. Within the space of an hour, Bin already regrets saying anything to him at all. He finally grasps how lighthearted he was being before, and that this was not the time nor the right person to be flirting with. Bin hopes that he managed to put the prince off to the point where he’ll avoid Bin when they’re alone because he’ll need it if he ever wants to concentrate on his job, otherwise he’ll just have to do it himself.

Right then, Jinwoo gives them a signal. They wait for a couple beats as they watch Sanha board ASTRO with Myungjun and Minhyuk on either side of him, the captain following suit just behind. He looks right at Bin despite how far away they are, their headgear allowing the cameras to focus on each other even with the gale between them, before saluting. It’ll be some time before they see each other again, and that’s only if they all survive through this ordeal, so Bin returns the salute before finally taking off.

The particle hoverboard cuts through the squall like a knife, keeping them close enough to the ground to not be seen but high enough to not run into any stray objects in the way. They skirt around the horde of criminals rushing towards the docking site and Bin takes note of a mixture of alien races and humans alike, obvious only because of all the different shapes and sizes of individuals despite the masks covering their faces, spacesuits proudly displaying the local gang sign on their backs. With the denseness of the blizzard and the large distance between them, no one spots the two of them zipping past in the opposite direction.

Bin glances back for a second to witness ASTRO taking off without them, shooting into the atmosphere like a bullet and leaving the cruiser behind. With the barrier, the Centaurian ship was safe from all forms of attack; they had orders to reunite with ASTRO once the ship was finished repairing and aid them in warding off enemies. Bin’s concentration returns to where they are headed, the map in his left eye clearly marking their destination. Aymara was located much more north of where they started, nearly three entire districts away, but luckily they were not flying against the whirlwinds.

They travel in silence for a long time; had Bin not come to his senses just now, he might have even tried to strike conversation. As it were, neither party said a single word, a never-ending blizzard and a long expanse of snow going on ahead of them for miles and miles. After some time, Bin could practically feel Eunwoo thinking of something to say, his long fingers unconsciously curling and uncurling on Bin’s shoulders, and with a resigned sigh the pilot ultimately decides to take pity on him.

“You seem unsettled,” Bin says, speaking loud enough to be heard over the roaring gale. Eunwoo’s hands jerk away from Bin’s shoulders, realizing he’d been caught, the startled movement letting the other know he was heard. The prince doesn’t say anything at first, and Bin wonders if he’s being ignored – it would be for the best after all, but he can’t help the disappointment he feels even if it doesn’t get a chance to simmer for very long when the other finally resolves to speak.

“Did I do something wrong? It feels like you are angry at me,” Eunwoo confesses, sounding perplexed. “Unless… I am not exhaustingly heavy to carry, am I?”

Bin tries not to laugh; the worry in the prince’s voice is so endearing that it makes it very difficult. He clears his throat before responding, deciding to be frank. “No, I’m more alarmed by how normal you weigh. Humans are usually genetically modified at birth so we won’t be as fragile in the face of other aliens, but I don’t know your limits, especially without the use of your powers.”

Eunwoo hums in understanding, the movement of his head nodding jostling Bin a little. “In terms of strength, I am much stronger than I appear due to my Centaurian genes,” the prince informs him. “But yes, just like my appearance, I am more human than anything. My body works in essentially the same way, so I have most of the same weaknesses with few exceptions.” So, it turns out to be exactly as Bin feared. The dismay he felt earlier only grows deeper, and he begins to chew on his lip. Eunwoo notices the lack of response and apologetically squeezes Bin’s shoulder. “I am sorry for burdening you. Hiding my horns and obstructing my power like this will definitely become as much of a liability as it is an asset.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bin immediately assures him, unable to stand the other’s remorseful tone and putting a hand over Eunwoo’s comfortingly despite what his brain is telling him. “Traveling in a small ship means that we’ll have to dock often for fuel and supplies – you are only doing your part, and there is nothing wrong with that. I will do mine make sure that you get through this alive, no matter what.”

Bin can’t see Eunwoo’s soft smile, but boy, his heart sure does.

 

 

 

Aymara is a city that appears both innovative and lost in time. Smog perpetually blackens the overhanging clouds, but that only makes the city lights appear even brighter, vibrant orange flames licking the sky from the tops of industrial factories that exist solely to harvest the gemstones buried deep inside of Gilese 876d’s crust. Gems from Gilesian power plants could power all things electronic for years and were once highly coveted, but ever since regenerative plasma energy was introduced a couple hundred years ago, their market system collapsed and lead to its current state.

The refugees and exiles who lived among the gangs and pirates were all still adapted to live off the planet’s natural resources, specializing in things like mining, mechanics, blacksmithing, engineering, constructing, and other similar occupations. The fact that the towns and cities on Gilese 876d are self-sufficient is the only reason no outside governmental bodies have gotten involved despite the lack of supervision. Aymara is all that was left of a once prosperous kingdom.

By the time they arrive at the borderlands, finally finding solace from the never-ending blizzard currently plaguing the eastern pole, night has fallen. They glide quietly through the shantytown that surrounds the city, citizens going about their business and paying them no mind. As they continue forward, small, temporary homes are replaced by buildings both long and tall. Compared to the quiet of the outer ward, the city is bustling with all kinds of people, crowded food stalls and squatters selling stolen items lining the unpaved roads, terrain vehicles of all sizes passing slowly through the swarms of locals walking through the street.

Gemstone lights gleam as they pass, thousands of them dotting the outer walls of the tall buildings like constellations, and there are banners all over the place that suggest some sort of festival. In the distance Bin can just barely make out the sight of an enormous factory, likely the home base of whichever gang rules the wealthiest district on the planet, serving both as a palace and a fortress what with the reinforced steel walls surrounding it. Jurisdiction is constantly being juggled between different forerunners, so he imagines that a switch must have happened recently for there to be such a cause for celebration like this.

Bin can feel Eunwoo looking around animatedly at everything, probably in awe of the spectacle. Judging by the prince’s story that he told on the ship, the pilot imagines that the other man never got a chance to leave his home base on Cygni Bb before, and was seeing this sort of lively commotion for the first time in his life. He feels bad that they can’t stop moving, their destination only a few streets away, but Bin reasons that they’ll have plenty of chances to look around other cities once they acquire an actual ship. He only manages to hold out for a few more minutes, shoulders pinching from how hard Eunwoo is squeezing them in his excitement, before Bin finally stops to deactivate his hoverboard.

When he retracts his headgear, Eunwoo does the same, a look of confusion on his pretty face. “Why did we stop?” he questions, already getting distracted by stall of gemstone contraptions located behind the pilot.

“Uh, I just figured that we should walk from here,” Bin supplies, scratching the back of his neck as he quickly tries to come up with an excuse that won’t make it sound like Bin was indulging him, even though he totally was. “You know, uh, save on particle energy so we can use it later and stuff.” Bin knows that you can’t really save energy from something that generates it as you use it, but Eunwoo is more than eager to take his word for it. The prince grins radiantly in response, eyes twinkling brighter than the gemstone lights as he hastily nods in understanding before casually walking – or, really, attempting to appear casual through his thinly-veiled enthusiasm – over to the booth. Bin tries hard not to look fond, but Eunwoo was otherwise preoccupied and no one that mattered was watching anyway.

By the time they reach the coordinates Sanha had given them, the prince had amassed quite a large collection free items and gems due to his innocent fascination and the eager participation of numerous merchants who were just as entranced by his smile as Bin is. The crowd thinned out considerably at this location, leaving only a couple of people loitering around and not even looking at them. They are standing in front of a worn mechanic shop, the large gate drawn open to reveal a small terrain vehicle currently being worked on by an older looking pair, a man and a woman.

The woman notices them dawdling first, a smile stretching across her face that makes her look exactly like ASTRO’s resident engineer, and Bin figures out that the two must be Sanha’s parents. “Come on in then, I thought you two were in a rush,” she calls out, hurriedly gesturing for them to come over. Bin and Eunwoo exchange looks before hesitantly obeying, entering the garage-like room.

Sanha’s father straightens up from his work to evaluate them, tall just like his son, before his gaze locks on their faces as if he recognized them. He moves closer before his eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, we saw you two at one of the vendors when we went to pick up some supplies,” the older man mentions, turning to his wife. “The handsome couple! Remember?”

Eunwoo immediately turns red and Bin’s jaw drops in shock, uncertain what to say. Before either of them can think to refute their words, Sanha’s mother walks up to them as well and begins to speak. “You’re right!” she exclaims, smile widening when she recognizes them too. “Well, what do you know. I was so worried about what kind of emergency would have Sanha calling out of the blue to tell us how he urgently needed the corvette. Are you two going on vacation together or something?”

Bin doesn’t know whether to clear the misunderstanding or go with it, depending on what would get them the ship the fastest, but Eunwoo makes that decision for him. “W-We are not a couple,” the prince chokes out, still very embarrassed; his voice comes out high-pitched since he was so off-guard. Sanha’s parents don’t look convinced at all, giving them both suspicious looks. Bin attempts to salvage the situation by trying to change the subject and introduce themselves instead.

“Um, we’re from same unit as Sanha. I’m ASTRO’s pilot, Moon Bin, and this is our co-captain, uh…” Bin glances over at Eunwoo, in his rush realizing a second too late that he can’t say the prince’s name.

Fortunately, Eunwoo doesn’t miss a beat. “Lee Dongmin,” he supplies, automatically smiling like it was programmed into his brain.

Sanha’s mom coos dotingly at Eunwoo, just about ready to adopt him or something. “Ooh, how pretty you are.” She looks over at Bin. “I can see why you’re so infatuated! I can tell a lover’s gaze from a mile away.”

Bin balks, speechless once again. He feels his ears heat up even as he tries to school his reaction, but it’s hard when Sanha’s dad keeps watching them like he knows their secret when they don’t even have one. “Looks like young people in the military these days can’t catch a break,” the older man pipes up, putting an arm around his wife. “I heard about that rule! What was it again? Unit captains can’t be involved with their subordinates? Must be rough for you two.”

His wife suddenly clasps her hands together, mouth forming a small ‘o’ as she looks at them both with wide, worried eyes. “Oh my, I get it now! You guys were found out and need to escape! This explains so much.” She turns to her husband. “Honey, you need to get them to the corvette immediately. Who knows when the military will send in agents and arrest them both for being in love! Oh, this is so romantic!”

She runs inside, exclaiming something about getting them food to eat on the way, her husband following suit to look for the keys to his vehicle. Eunwoo and Bin slowly turn to look at each other, absolutely astounded by what just happened. Realizing that they somehow managed to acquire a ship without needing to make up a single excuse themselves, the absurdity of the situation makes them burst into laughter right then and there. Bin, amidst his own mirth, catches sight of Eunwoo with tears streaking down his cheeks as he clutches his sides, face pink and laughing so hard he might faint; it’s so ridiculous and amazing to see the prince like this, still so magnificently beautiful in his own way, that Bin forgets how to breathe.

If every moment spent with Eunwoo would be as exhilarating as this, Bin may as well give up trying not to fall for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the story continues, there will be chapters or sections where I switch to what is happening aboard ASTRO. I'm sure the socky is easy to spot, I didn't exactly hide it - my babies are gonna be the happy, cute ship in this AU. I'm super excited to show you guys what I have planned for myungjin and binu, tho. Prepare your hearts! I hope you like roller coasters, lol.
> 
> (also dream part 1 is amazing!!! astro really got me good, y'all)


	5. Redshift 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, I have summer courses now so I only got to work on this over the weekend! Because of this, updates will be slower in June~July. Altho, if I write shorter chapters, I can probably post weekly. What do you guys prefer - slower updates with longer chapters, or more frequent ones with shorter chapters? Let me know in the comments or on [tumblr](https://astrobinu.tumblr.com/ask)!
> 
> Anyway, I got sick of staring at this chapter so my editing is probably atrocious - just let me know if you find anything glaringly obvious!

_[District Tvaṣṭā, Gilese 876d](http://imgur.com/GwWopAE) _

 

Bin isn’t sure what he expected after climbing into the terrain vehicle, but to say he wasn’t surprised when they leave the city behind them would be a lie. Sanha’s father, Mr. Yoon he’d said to call him, takes them out past the sullen shantytown and right back into the borderlands from where they came. Soon, they are skirting along the narrow dead zone that separated the livable strip of land from the frenzied tempest that plagued the rest of Gilese 876d. The storm seemed to have worsened while they were gone, the sound of the wind tearing apart the earth with sheets of ice and meteorite almost deafening despite being inside, leaving no room for conversation as they plug up their ears to save them from the inevitable headaches.

They drive north for hours at top speed, leaving not only Aymara behind but several other districts as well until there was nothing else around them but wide open land, finally veering away from the dead zone and heading back inland. The pilot takes the sudden quiet as a chance to properly evaluate the automobile they were riding in, realizing that he recognized the design. It appeared to be crafted after an outdated military lorry that was the heaviest of its kind despite the small size, ideal for a planet like this if you didn’t want to use airpower. It was compact but extremely powerful and fast, the manual drive signaling the handcrafted nature of it, likely run by the same gemstones that operated the city since it had an engine system. It was the kind of vehicle that couldn’t be built by just two or three people, it was the work of a team – who apparently had access to outdated military blueprints.

Bin didn’t know what to make of this discovery, evenly balanced between curiosity and concern, but the answer came in the form of a dark silhouettes finally appearing on the horizon. It was still night, the visibility low enough that he couldn’t make out what they were except that they appeared to be buildings. He assumed it to be a random district out in the middle of nowhere, until he saw familiar gemstone lights marking the ground in long shapes, creating wide lanes that tapered off in the distance – lanes that were long enough for spaceships to easily land and take off from.

Bin’s jaw drops when he identifies the lights as runway guides, the faraway buildings now close enough to recognize as an aerodrome with a series of several enormous spacecraft parked in neat rows. He had heard of an Earthling military base on this planet before, but it was never spoken about in detail after it was destroyed during a series of galactic skirmishes many years ago, around the same time Gilese’s economy collapsed. All he knew that it had been extremely small in size and virtually impractical when it came to actual combat, so after its annihilation the location of the base was lost to time. And yet, there it was, born-again and reimagined.

“What in the world is going on here?!” Bin exclaims aloud, face pressed against the window with wide-eyed interest as they drive past the long rows of spaceships, only recognizing half of the shuttle designs and ogling the extraordinary unfamiliar ones with admiration. Bin won’t say he understands more about spacecraft than an actual engineer, but as a pilot he knows what it takes to create a superior one and it is obvious to him that all these ships are next-level.

Mr. Yoon doesn’t hear Bin’s outburst since the passenger portion of the vehicle is separate from the front, but Eunwoo does, his attention successfully caught as he scoots over to get a closer look at what Bin is seeing. “What did you find?” the prince asks as he presses up against the pilot’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning over to cup his other palm against the window to look through. Much to Bin’s dismay, Eunwoo seems to have overcome his awkwardness with him after their little episode back at the mechanics’ garage, and he freezes up before forcing himself to relax in an effort to conceal the sudden whirlwind of conflicted emotions that hit him just then.

“I think this place used to be a human military base,” Bin supplies, resolutely keeping his attention outside as he points out the aerodrome and the runways to the prince. “It was destroyed during the previous war, but I hadn’t heard anything about it being reinstated.”

Eunwoo’s jaw drops in sudden realization as he presses even closer to the window. “That is because it is no longer a military base!” he explains, turning slightly to look at Bin, his gold eyes shining bright again in the way that they always seem to do, even in the darkness of the passenger cabin. “This is District Tvaṣṭā, the engineering headquarters of Gilese 876d! I read somewhere that it was just a model society that probably did not exist, but it is actually here! According to rumors, the military never returned after the base was destroyed and ended up abandoning fundamental designs and schematics for some highly advanced technology. An engineering union backed by the gang leader of Aymara at the time claimed Tvaṣṭā as a territory for manufacturing and education in rocketeering. Apparently, that is the reason why mechanists from Gilese are so talented.”

Bin had never even heard of such an organization, although that was probably the lack of attention he paid in lessons at the academy that didn’t involve piloting a ship, and the two of them continue to gape out the window as Mr. Yoon drives them to the far side of the aerodrome. They slow down after going around, revealing a set of massive gates that likely serves as the main entrance for the building. They watch a small android hover down to the vehicle towards the driver’s side, the glowing blue light signaling that some sort of scan was taking place before the robot’s colorful lights blinked in affirmation. Steam and the sound of groaning metal signal the opening of the gates, the large gemstone gears on the doors rotating in every direction as they pull them apart. The glowing gems appear to power the entire structure, and Bin observes as bright blue crystal plasma floods the clear pipes along the side to activate the pressurized mechanics.

Even with newfound high expectations of this secret society, nothing, however, could prepare them for what lay inside. The aerodrome basically served as a warehouse for all kinds of strange and amazing machines and spacecraft, both large and small, with containers that could hold virtually anything haphazardly stacked along the walls[[1]](https://img.gawkerassets.com/img/17wpq4e978817jpg/original.jpg). The building was already extremely tall to begin with, but once inside they could barely see the top, blinded by the blue gemstone lights on the ceiling that filtered down to them through the crevices and openings of larger inventions that were suspended above them. Small groups of three or four people loiter around certain contraptions, no one paying them any attention as others went about their business; Bin notices how some of the younger looking members are wearing familiar navy jumpsuits, identical to what Sanha was wearing when he first stepped into ASTRO’s hangar the last time they docked on a military dreadnought.

The vehicle slows to a stop on a platform spray painted with MMCIII on the ground, Mr. Yoon sliding open the door for them so they can climb out. “I’m sure you kids are smart enough to figure out where you are,” he tells them with a smile, gesturing with his head for them to follow. “It’s not really as top-secret as the rumors make it out to be, but a little mystery keeps things interesting, don’t you think?”

Eunwoo nods enthusiastically in agreement, his gleaming eyes taking on their surroundings. Bin can feel the prince’s fingers curling unconsciously into the back of his spacesuit, instinctively keeping him nearby, and the pilot furtively makes sure to stay close now that they were out in the open again. So long as the special ops crew keeps up pretenses on their side of the universe, the prince’s life won’t be in any immediate danger for a while. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. Bin also had to consider that Eunwoo has never been outside the safety of a ship or a base this long before, and these thoughts are what keep the pilot warier of their surroundings rather than feel nervous over frivolous things, like these weird feelings. He just needs to get the prince inside a ship and off this planet as soon as possible.

Mr. Yoon continues to speak as he walks ahead of them, leading down a path made narrow by the stacked crates that flank either side of them. “Without a frontrunner, Tvaṣṭā isn’t recognized as an official region even by other districts on this planet, so it technically doesn’t even exist. Earlier this year the space military sent in agents that managed to track down our society, and after some back and forth negotiations, they decided to accept the training offered here as prerequisites for army engineer qualifications. That will finally give us the resources and funding we need to establish this place as an official district. We weren’t surprised when Sanha chose to enlist – he always wanted to see more of what the universe had to offer outside of this cluttered factory. He wouldn’t have been able to leave otherwise.” Sanha’s father grows quieter then, and the heaviness in the mechanic’s voice makes Bin’s throat tighten. “These ships we build, these… machines. That’s all they’ll ever be. They lay around like this, unfairly grounded, confined to this planet just like the rest of us. It’s an insult to them, but we can’t change what we are. We can’t change the fact that we are Gilesian.”

Bin knew that among the convicts and gangs, peaceful civilians shared with them the same towns and cities. This entire planet was full of refugees and exiles who wanted nothing more than to live a peaceful life, but they were also held prisoner here like all the other criminals without committing a single offense. The only safe opening on Gilese 876d’s asteroid shell was monitored by pirates and the frontrunner of Aymara, meaning only those who were approved could go in and out of the planet. It was a situation that only interplanetary mediation could amend, but outer interference could potentially ruin the delicate balance that allows Gilese to continue and run on its own. With the dawning of universal government closing in so soon, no one wanted to take on a hand-holding mission that would fail long before it took off. It was one of those moments that Bin truly hated politics, fists clenching at the unfairness of it all.

“Sorry about suddenly unloading all this on you two,” Mr. Yoon quickly adds, glancing at them briefly with a sheepish expression and a low chuckle. “Sanha always says that I talk a lot. Don’t worry too much about us out here, we’ll be just fine.” Eunwoo’s grip on Bin’s suit tightens unexpectedly, startling the pilot; he looks over his shoulder only to see the prince’s brows furrowed as he watches the back of Mr. Yoon’s head, biting down on his lower lip as his eyes shine with thoughts that never leave the tip of his tongue. Bin desperately wants to know what the other is thinking because obviously Eunwoo had so much to say, but the pilot saves this question for later, just like all the others. He wonders if he’ll ever actually ask them or if they’ll collect like this until they finally part ways; the latter seems more likely, and Bin doesn’t like how not okay he is with knowing that.

Before anything else can be said, they reach the end of the long passageway and Mr. Yoon finally stops in front of an extremely large container labeled 03P21; it was several containers tall and wide and had no others stacked on top of it, signaling to Bin that it must be holding the ship Sanha was telling them about. Mr. Yoon presses his palm against the outside, activating the small screen next to it. “This is it, boys,” he informs them, allowing the round mechanism on the top of the screen to scan his eye. Unlike regenerative plasma, gemstones don’t support holograms, but since plasma replaced gemstones so long ago, it is Bin and Eunwoo’s first time seeing a touchable solid screen. Both look on curiously as Mr. Yoon inputs a series of codes in an unrecognizable language, the sound of the mechanic’s fingers tapping away echoing down the makeshift hallway of piled containers and getting lost in the constant low hum of machinery.

Suddenly a loud whirring interrupts all other sound, the long wall of the container folding like a partition and revealing the dark shadow of a ship. The overhead lights inside flicker on like a spotlight onto the spacecraft, finally illuminating its sleek yellow frame with the name ‘POLARIS’ rendered along the side of the cockpit. Bin’s entire being tingles at the sight of the four gargantuan thrusters, ensuring high speeds and zero traction. The shield generator attached to the underbelly, although obviously the only one of its kind, appeared state-of-the-art, just as ASTRO’s engineer had guaranteed. The spaceship was picturesque in every way and Bin would probably have been drooling if he wasn’t also painfully aware of how slim the main body was, basically promising the tight space he had feared all this time, even though he won’t know for sure until they boarded.

“No need to dawdle, boys!” Mr. Yoon exclaims, gently pushing the both of them inside the container towards the ship. “The sooner you two are off, the safer you’ll be. And besides, Polaris has waited long enough for this day.”

“Are you sure it is okay for us to just take it like this?” Eunwoo calls out to the mechanic as he follows Bin inside, mindful that the spacecraft was family-owned. Sanha had mentioned working on it but now it was obvious it was built not just with a random team of trained mechanics, but with his parents, too. Plus it wasn’t just any old ship, it appeared exceptionally powerful. Although it wasn’t like they had any other choice, Eunwoo still felt bad about taking such a nice spaceship without any repercussions. The wonderful generosity Sanha’s family was showing them made him feel the need to offer something else in return. “If I could just supply you with some sort of payment—”

Mr. Yoon bursts into whole-hearted laughter, cutting off the prince’s sentence. He pulls out the keys and tosses them to Bin. “Flying her is payment enough,” he responds, loud enough for them to hear, his kind smile broad enough to see even from their distance. “And anyway, she was never ours to begin with. Polaris used to be one of the old ships left behind after the bombing. We just took the scraps and reinvented her. Just think of it as… as returning to the military what was once theirs.”

With the keys in Bin’s hand, he instantaneously feels his internal CPU connecting with the system of the ship. Sensing his presence, the ship activates the boarding mechanism, a staircase extending down from the right wing as the main entryway slides open. Something inside Bin causes him to hesitate and he turns back to Eunwoo, who returns the look. This was it – once they boarded, they would officially off the grid; no one will know where they are at any given time, or even recognize who they are. Eunwoo and Bin would just be a pair of regular people traversing through millions of solar systems together and blending in like intergalactic tourists. If something happened to them and the crew during this mission, it was genuinely possible that no one would ever know.

Bin squares his shoulders, sharing a nod with the prince before gesturing for Eunwoo to board first. “Your highness,” he says, just out of range of Mr. Yoon’s hearing. The prince smiles brightly at him then, briefly resting a hand on Bin’s arm as he leans in.

“Don’t you think it’s time to use my name, Bin?” he whispers with laughter in his voice, and when he pulls back his eyes are glimmering teasingly. “After all, aren’t we partners in crime now? Star-crossed lovers, and all.” He laughs louder then, leaving the other behind and climbing the steps. Bin chokes, unable to form words as he watches Eunwoo jog up the wing to the entryway, the prince turning around and calling out his final thanks and farewell to Sanha’s father before ducking inside.

“If you’re worried about the controls, don’t worry! We modeled them after modern military spacecraft!” Mr. Yoon shouts when he notices Bin’s lack of movement, entering in some information onto the screen an the side of the container like before. “You just board and I’ll activate the anti-gravity platform that’ll take the ship straight to the top of the aerodrome! There is an opening up there that you can take off from!” Snapping back to reality, Bin yells back his acknowledgement, struggling to be heard over the sound of the top of the container lifting open. The floor of the crate separates from the rest as it begins to vibrate and glow the same familiar blue color of gemstones, and Bin feels it starting to lift off the ground. He waves back at Mr. Yoon before finally following Eunwoo up the stairs and heading inside.

It takes a brief second for Bin’s eyes to adjust to the soft blue glow of the gemstone lights inside, noticing quickly that the main lights were off and were made of the same plasma that they use in military grade ships. The entryway on the wing closes behind him, and the first thing he sees is the bedroom and kitchen. The space is not as narrow as he dreaded, the continuous corridor design of the interior keeping it from feeling claustrophobic.

On the far side was the bedroom, which was immediately in front of him upon entering, featured two separate cylindrical units for clothing storage at the foot of the bed as well as overhead storage with lighting. Across from it with about two meters walking space in between was a long counter space with a food generator at the end, serving as a kitchen. It even had a stove for traditional cooking, which Bin had only seen in textbooks before today, and a couple other appliances he couldn’t recall the names of. If you continued down the right side of the passage way, there was a long booth with a table in between that had a holosphere element for entertainment and communications, ending there with a large glass window. The left side of the passageway lead to a bathroom that had a ladder across from it. Bin glanced out the window to check their altitude in reference to the aerodrome before heading up the ladder when he figures he still has time.

Polaris turns out to be even more modern than Bin could have ever imagined, his jaw dropping when he realizes the small second level is an observation deck. The entire elongated bubble-shaped crown is made of gemstone glass which is more solid than a block of metal, featuring a tiny gym at the back and a seating area in the front which encircles a large holosphere apparatus at the center of it. It was a rather close space but it utilizes the area well and Bin is seriously impressed; he definitely understands why the military decided to allow engineers from Tvaṣṭā to enlist without any other prerequisites – if the schematics of a spacecraft as compact as Polaris could be this well-equipped, Bin can only imagine what the larger ones look like.

Once he climbs back down, Bin continues down the passageway towards the cockpit, opening the door and finding Eunwoo already inside examining the controls. It was a lot more spacious here, although Bin could feel the top of his hair brushing against the sloping ceiling once he reached the steering bay at the front. There was no window in the cockpit except for the long slits on either side, the gemstone paneling activating upon Bin’s arrival. Like turning tiles, Polaris’ multi-cam function turns the inside of the cockpit into a giant display that not only let them see the entire 360 degrees of their surroundings, but also had a holosphere navigation and detector system integrated into the control panel. This ship was the most amazing fusion of old and new tech Bin had ever seen before in his life, using the best parts from both generations and creating a preeminent combination.

In that moment, they surface at the top of the aerodrome, finally able to behold the sheer number of spaceships surrounding the building from a higher perspective. “This is unbelievable,” Eunwoo murmurs aloud, voicing Bin’s exact thoughts. “This tech, this resourcefulness… it is unlike any other. If the universe knew what they were turning their back on, I doubt the condition in Gilese would be same as it is now.” Bin couldn’t help but agree, recalling what Mr. Yoon had said about being held back by the reputation of this planet. Especially now, after realizing just how far ahead Tvaṣṭā was in terms of technology and design, yet they were not even acknowledged as a real district. Their innovations could singlehandedly repair their broken market system and bring back the kingdom that had fallen to anarchy at the hands of criminals hundreds of years ago.

“I think this is why the human government didn’t reclaim this land after they saw how the Gilesians restructured the region,” Bin says, finally taking a seat in front of control panel and feeling his entire body sync with the ship; it’s extremely satisfying to be behind the steering again. “I think they realize that this planet is on the precipice of rebirth. It’s just a matter of when.” He turns to Eunwoo then, who is still staring out at the thousands of spaceships overlaying the surrounding land. The purple-green color of imminent dawn paints the barren landscape in new colors, the hidden gem particles buried in the dark red dirt glowing in reaction to the approaching light. The prince had that far-off look in his eyes again, the kind that meant he was lost in thought. Eunwoo’s words from before, about being partners in crime, repeat in Bin’s head like a mantra. Before he can stop himself, he finally decides to speak his mind. “What is your highness thinking about?”

Eunwoo doesn’t answer immediately, his teeth biting down on his lower lip for a few seconds as he contemplates his words. “How I so badly want to live to see this planet flourish again.” He looks over at Bin, gaze searching. “Do you think… a Centaurian king could do something about it?”

It’s an honest question, albeit a naïve one. “I don’t know,” Bin replies, just as honest. “But I believe it’s worth a try, if your highness is the one to do it.”

The prince smiles softly then, and it is so dazzling Bin fears he may go blind. Still, he finds that can’t take his eyes off him. He doesn’t think he even wants to. “You know, you can call me by my name,” Eunwoo tells him. “I feel like I am the only who ever says it. It is a bit lonely, to be honest.”

Bin forces himself to look away before he winds up staring too long. “I don’t think that that’s a good idea. You are a prince whose name holds a lot of weight, and I… I’m just a normal person. I’m afraid of becoming comfortable where I shouldn’t be,” Bin admits, feeling bad that he had to deny Eunwoo’s request. Silence fills the cockpit and Bin worries he might have upset the prince, but he’s too scared to look at him and find disappointment there. He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he misses what Eunwoo says next and must ask him to say it again.

When the prince doesn’t repeat himself immediately, Bin sneaks a peak to find that Eunwoo is no longer looking at him but is instead staring resolutely at the ground. “The name I mentioned at the mechanic shop earlier,” the prince finally says, a little louder but still hesitant. “You can just call me that.”

Bin’s brows furrow as he thinks back, finally remembering the name after a few seconds. “Lee Dongmin?” he questions. Eunwoo winces when Bin says the name aloud, more visibly shaken by it than he probably would have liked, and the reaction only makes Bin incredibly curious. He takes liberty in the openness the prince seems to still be allowing him, asking the question directly. “Who exactly _is_ Dongmin?”

Again, Eunwoo doesn’t reply immediately, continuing to worry his lower lip with his teeth instead. Bin just barely suppresses the urge to reach out and stop him from hurting himself. Luckily the prince continues to speak and stops biting it before Bin winds up doing something else he’ll regret. “Dongmin… is my human name, the one I was given by my mother. I do not know why I said it when I introduced myself earlier to your engineer’s family, especially when I have not used it in years. It just… came out.”

Bin studies Eunwoo’s face for a long time, seeing just how bewildered the prince seemed right then by their conversation. The name obviously had a more personal connotation to him than ‘Eunwoo’ did, and the fact that he was willingly telling this to Bin made something deep inside of him delightfully giddy even though he knew it shouldn’t. Bin licks his lips to distract himself from these dangerous thoughts, thinking of a question instead. “Is Dongmin your highness’ real name, then?”

At first, Eunwoo starts to shake his head, but then stops himself short, brows furrowing again. “Well, my official name is my Centaurian one. No one except my mother has ever called me Dongmin. Or known that I even had this name, for that matter.”

The pilot finds the prince’s puzzlement over his own name adorable, finding himself smiling fondly before he can help it. “Well, do you like it?” he blurts out, realizing a beat too late that he forgot to refer to prince in third person. He doesn’t take it back however, resolutely staring at Eunwoo’s face instead. Startled by the straightforward question, Eunwoo finally looks up from the floor to Bin’s face again. Their eyes meet, gold to brown, and the sudden intimacy of the moment makes the prince’s ears redden, as if he just realized how informal and sincere a conversation they were having. Eunwoo can’t remember the last time he spoke to someone like this – or if he ever did – and it makes his chest tighten with a foreign feeling he can’t quite explain.

“I do not know,” he admits, faltering for a second before allowing himself to be honest. “But… I do miss it.”

The pilot’s grin widens, once again throwing away any hopes of acting distant like he’d planned. Bin finds himself reaching for the prince’s shoulder without even thinking, giving in to his feelings once again and squeezing tightly. “Well then, Dongmin, I believe it’s high time we took off, wouldn’t you agree?”

For a moment, Eunwoo is caught off-guard yet again, blinking rapidly as his mind processes what the other just said to him. He smiles then, and it is the brightest, most beautiful smile yet, no sign of inhibition left as his eyes curve into soft crescents that Bin will probably never forget for as long as he lives.

“Yes, I do,” Dongmin responds, placing his hand over Bin’s on his shoulder and grasping it gratefully. “Let us go. The universe awaits.”

 

⤺✶⤻

 

Myungjun flops facedown onto his bed, exhausted beyond belief; he could probably sleep for ten years after that entire ordeal. He’ll probably never be able to get the sound of Sanha’s shrill screaming out of his ears as Minhyuk tried his best to get them past the asteroid shell without damaging ASTRO too badly. Keyword: _tried_. It didn’t help that they had to jump drive almost immediately after escaping the wrath of the shell, transporting them to Redshift 7, which was two entire galaxies away and probably worsened whatever damage the ship had already taken from the collisions.

“We’re gonna need to make a pit stop at the next space station so I can fix my son,” Sanha had whimpered, hugging the inner wall of the control room like the spacecraft was a sentient being. Myungjun doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the newly acquired golden horns on the engineer’s head, but other than that Sanha was still essentially the same as before.

Minhyuk, however, wasn’t apologetic in the least, body gone limp as he slid down in the pilot’s seat. “Look, just be grateful I even managed to get us out alive,” he’d declared, sweating profusely like he’d been exercising. Which wasn’t far off considering how wildly he was steering just seconds before. “Just because I went through the same training as Bin doesn’t mean we’re good at the same things. I have math and maps, and he has… I don’t know, good eyes or something.” Jinwoo, who’d looked like he had his entire life sucked out of him as he lay on his back right in front of the captain’s chair from where he’d fallen, had burst out into laughter at Minhyuk’s description, nearly at the verge of tears – and probably insanity, too, in Myungjun’s opinion. They had almost died, after all.

But now all was calm and the liaison was finally able to relax after everything that happened today, finding the comfort of his bed welcoming. He didn’t plan on sleeping just yet however, eyeing the pile of books on his side table, but he was too tired to make himself move right then. The day had started off so normal – he’d been following Jinwoo around all morning and begging to be trained in combat, even though Myungjun’s job wasn’t to fight, but to communicate and negotiate. Jinwoo had been pretty assertive about refusing to teach him, especially since Myungjun was basically a limp noodle when it came to any sort of physical activity, but Myungjun was tired of being stupidly envious of Bin and Minhyuk’s private training with their captain. It wasn’t like he was actually planning on learning something anyway, he just wanted Jinwoo to throw him around a little bit… and if he took his shirt off too, well, Myungjun wasn’t about to complain. But before he could get anywhere in their argument, they received the transmission from headquarters and had to abandon their debate in favor of carrying out their current mission.

Truthfully, Myungjun had just been starved for attention; if a couple bruises meant some sweaty one-on-one time with Jinwoo then so be it. Jinwoo was so affectionate and considerate of everyone, but lately it felt like he was avoiding him on purpose. For a while Myungjun was terrified that the captain may have found out about his feelings or something, but if that was the case Jinwoo would have confronted him first. The captain wasn’t the type to shun someone over something like that; he was too gentle and sympathetic for scheming of that level, unlike Myungjun, who probably tried a little _too_ hard to find reasons to spend extra time with the captain. Maybe he was just getting tired of the liaison’s constant company? Although it wasn’t Myungjun’s fault that he wanted to spend every waking moment with Jinwoo. If you asked Myungjun, he’d tell you that being hopelessly in love with your unit captain had its perks – except for the fact that Myungjun was a damn good liar, even on his off days. But he doesn’t blame himself for this problem. Myungjun wholeheartedly accuses Jinwoo for putting him in such a situation in the first place.

Several years ago, he’d been a nervous wreck on his final official day of military academy. He hadn't been able to eat properly for nearly two weeks prior and was almost completely sure he’d be underweight and disqualify for the BMI license. On top of that, despite supposedly being able to speak over 10 alien languages, he couldn't remember a single word that day. Not one. Not even English, his first language. Honestly Myungjun didn't know how he managed to arrive at the exam location in the first place. All he knew was that if he failed the liaison qualification exam – the last one he needed to complete his registration for the special operations division – his life would quite literally be over. All his scholarships would go to waste, and his special exemptions for being Earth-born would be canceled; thousands upon thousands of hours of memorizing intergalactic relations laws, learning multiple languages until he was fluent in all of them, and combing through the ins and outs of different alien customs and culture, all to get him to this very academy, would be gone.

All because of a two-hour oral assessment he spent years of his life studying for.

The longer Myungjun sat in the waiting room, the harder it was for him to breathe. He’d come in early for his session, thinking that he could calm himself down while he was there, but it hadn't done anything for him in the least. Arguably, it was much more severe than before. Even the lady sitting across from him looked stuck between being concerned and extremely annoyed, which Myungjun couldn’t even blame her for because truthfully, he couldn't be further from being okay. She didn’t know that his entire existence depended on this oral exam – she was probably waiting for a completely different exam with no clue that everything he worked for, everything he left behind to get here, all of it, relied on this one moment.

When Myungjun thought of his mother back on Earth, someone he hadn’t seen in years but still missed every single day, his mouth filled with bile. Not a day went by without wishing he was born on a gen-ship. On Earth, no one cared about what happens outside the planet. After graduating high school Myungjun had to teach himself what students in space learned in elementary school, and then he had to go above and beyond that to even be considered to go to space. These days, they didn't put just anyone on a spaceship anymore; he was a normal human after all, and had to take handfuls of special medications every day just so he wouldn't die during high speed travel, not including jump driving. For that they injected his bones with a special alloy that his body violently rejected for months before he could get on a spaceship, yet even through that pain he studied until it felt like his eyes would bleed. People born in space could go see their families whenever they wanted. The only way Myungjun would ever see his mother again was when they sent him back to her in a casket.

Myungjun squinted up at the time scrolling across the far wall, chewing on his lips until they bled like it was his last meal. He still had forty-five excruciating minutes until he put everything on the line. It was almost like he’d gone deaf in that moment, staring unblinkingly at the digital wall as news broadcasts popped up along the side, leg shaking incessantly while his fingers fiddled in his lap, completely zoned out to the world around him. He wanted to scream, to throw a fit, to hit something, _anything_ ; Myungjun was sure that he would have gone insane.

Except. “Hey, are you okay?”

A low voice next to him breaks into Myungjun’s dark bubble, snapping him out of his trance. He glances over and is startled by an incredibly kind face looking at him in concern; it’s Jinwoo, but Myungjun didn’t know his name at the time. Instead he choked a little, mouth parting as if to say something but nothing except air came out. For a second, he forgets that he is terrified the future and finds himself speechless. Myungjun, who used to be the most talkative in school, was ignored by most of his peers when he arrived at the space military academy three years ago. The fact that he was from Earth spread like wildfire and all the other cadets in his branch avoided him like the plague, as if his disadvantages would somehow hurt them, too. He’d all but forgotten how to speak to another person his age.

“Y-Yeah,” Myungjun finally replies, even though it’s a blatant lie; he’d already sweat through his cadet uniform even though he just put it on before leaving for the exam, and the medium gray shade didn’t offer anything to hide the fact. He looks down at his lap then, ashamed to be seen in such a state, heating up all over from the mortification. Jinwoo didn’t say anything for a while, almost as if he perfectly understood the anxiety and panic that Myungjun felt right then. And he probably did, what with the fact his entire family ancestry being in the army – a long line of starfleet generals and interstellar military admirals that went on for generations, forever and always a mounting amount of pressure that hung around his neck like a tightening noose.

Then, in a voice quieter than a whisper, he said something that shocked Myungjun so much he forgot how to breathe.

“If you want, I can hold your hand.”

Myungjun turned his head so fast he nearly got whiplash, eyes wide as he tried to process what had just been said. He studied Jinwoo’s face for even the slightest sign of a joke, but all he got was a sincere smile and a proffered hand, palm-up. Before he can even think it all the way through, Myungjun takes the hand like a drowning man gasping for air, recalling the warmth and comfort of his mother and finally sobbing quietly into the collar of his uniform as he let the stress finally pour out of himself. Jinwoo pretends not to notice him crying for his sake, instead squeezing Myungjun’s hand so tight that it was enough to keep him from falling apart.

For the shortest forty-five minutes of his entire life, a complete stranger carried the weight on Myungjun’s shoulders for him without exchanging a single word. Myungjun passed the exam, and that night, in his dorm, he’d prayed to whatever deity that was listening to let him see Jinwoo again. He probably somehow managed to pray to a demon instead because four years later, he got his wish, but in a way that kept Jinwoo in front of him yet just out of reach. Myungjun dedicates twenty minutes every night to cursing at whoever came up with the law that prevented unit captains from being involved with subordinates, even though he totally understood why such a rule was instated in the first place. Plus, it wasn’t like Jinwoo was interested in him anyway, even if that fact was even more depressing than the stupid law itself.

Myungjun sighs tiredly, rolling over on his bed and reaching blindly for whatever book lay atop the pile on his side table. He flips it open to any random page, eyes scanning over the text but not reading it, either. Earlier when he had been freaking out about talking to Centaurian prince, Jinwoo had held Myungjun’s wrists so tightly, his soothing voice and encouraging eyes reminding him of that first day. The captain always seemed to know just what to say or do whenever Myungjun got too immersed in his own mind, and it never failed to make his heart skip dangerously. He sometimes wonders if Jinwoo remembers that day at all, if he knew that that anxious boy from back then had been Myungjun; they never spoke about it when he was appointed to Jinwoo’s crew two years ago, the captain introducing himself with a confident handshake and a brilliant smile that managed to sweep Myungjun off his feet even after so many years.

“What’s on your mind?” someone asks, startling Myungjun out of his trance. He lifts his head to see the captain’s familiar figure leaning against the doorframe of Myungjun’s bedroom with a broad smile on his face. He sits up then, feeling his face heat up and willing his heart to calm down even though he’d just nearly had a heart attack. He normally was much better prepared than this, good at neatly hiding away his feelings and easily entertaining conversation with Jinwoo, but Myungjun had been so deep in contemplation that he didn’t even hear the gate open. He grins back automatically, holding up the book in his hands so that the other could see the cover clearly.

“Just brushing up on my Centaurian languages, especially Reäv, seeing as the prince and his guards seem to communicate best in it,” he answers brightly, staring at his book again even as his eyes lose focus whenever he tries to read the text. He can’t seem to shake off his thoughts as quickly as he’d like, his brain supplying all the things he hasn’t been able to say to Jinwoo since they started flying together, but he keeps his mouth sealed tight; if Myungjun slips up, it could cost Jinwoo his career. As a position of authority in the military, Jinwoo’s eyecam was never permitted to be off except for a certain allotted number of hours a week, his performance closely monitored and scored monthly. Just because the captain didn’t return his feelings didn’t mean that the rumors that could potentially come out of this wouldn’t absolutely destroy Jinwoo’s chances at promotion. Myungjun had vowed to himself that he would stay by Jinwoo’s side long enough to see him become starfleet general, the highest military ranking, if it was the last thing he did.

Jinwoo wisely doesn’t buy Myungjun’s lie, raising an eyebrow as he stared pointedly at the book. “I don’t have to speak Reäv to know that you’re holding the book upside-down, you know.”

Myungjun jumps in realization, feeling his face flush in embarrassment even more as he scrunches his nose and allows the offending book to drop onto his lap. “You caught me. I was just worried about Bin,” he lies again, thinking quickly. “You saw how star-struck he was with the prince. He’s too soft. I’m just scared he’ll get attached and hurt himself.” There is at least some truth in his words, finding himself recalling the way their pilot had been stupidly gaping at the prince like he held the entire universe in the palm of his hands. Myungjun doesn’t blame him though; before today, he didn’t think it was possible for someone to be that pretty, either.

The captain still doesn’t completely believe that Myungjun had been thinking about that, but he lets it go, shrugging instead. “Regardless, Bin will get the job done. There is a reason why the Alpha-Class solider ranking is so rare. It’s just too bad that his heart isn’t as unbreakable as the rest of him is.” After a brief silence Jinwoo suddenly signals with his finger for Myungjun to get up and follow him, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he turns around and leaves as suddenly as he appeared. Alarmed, Myungjun immediately rolls out of bed, dropping the book on the sheets as he breaks out into a jog to catch up with the captain.

“Where are we going?” he inquires, falling into step with the other man.

Jinwoo glances at him with the corner of his eye, still leering mischievously. “You didn’t think you could just get out of combat training so easily, did you? Who was it that said they would start a petition if I didn’t treat you all equally? Well, now it’s time to hold up my end.” Myungjun’s blood suddenly runs cold; he didn’t think Jinwoo would take his pestering seriously. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing but a squeak that sounds vaguely like _‘oh’_ comes out. Jinwoo just cackles, throwing his arm around Myungjun’s neck and pulling him close as he practically drags the older man towards the gym. “Before we do anything else, we gotta start with some strength training! Let’s get work on six pack you’ve been dreaming about!”

Myungjun can feel his soul leaving his body; time to begin praying for an early death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This is kind of what I based the design of Polaris off of](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/87/e0/50/87e0503246d7c72ad5c62484938742d3.jpg), altho it takes a bit of imagination since it's yellow and has an observation deck on top. And can you believe it's been just over a month since I started stanning Astro?? I haven't gone a day without watching videos of them since early May.


	6. Circinus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS IS BASICALLY A FILLER CHAPTER but it's been like 3 weeks and I felt really bad about not updating. Summer courses are more crazy than I realized... just last week my 1st class ended, then on Thursday my 2nd class will end, and now my 3rd class just started on Monday.
> 
> As you can imagine, I have been overwhelmed by the sudden influx of final exams, papers, and new assignments. I'm hoping that with just 1 class leftover I can finally get back on track next week, so wish me luck!

_[Living quarters aboard Polaris](https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/000/038/013/large/Living_Quarters_Beauty01.jpg?1400222509) _

 

Dongmin wakes to the sound of quiet humming, blearily blinking open his eyes to see Bin working at the kitchen counter. He is fashioning a temporary communication device from the spare parts that had been stored in the overhead compartment above the bed where Dongmin was sleeping, as he said he would once they both slept off the events of yesterday. It’s still too early to be morning, but late enough that most of the night is almost over. Dongmin shifts a little to look towards the back of the ship where Bin slept on one side of the booth seating – or at least, where he said he would; the pillow and blanket are still neatly folded on the table, exactly the way Dongmin had last seen them before he fell asleep several hours ago.

“I recall you telling me that you will sleep in a few minutes,” he says aloud to Bin’s back, briefly startling the pilot. “Is there a reason you couldn’t sleep? The offer to share the bed is still open, if that is the reason.”

Bin looks over his shoulder to smile sheepishly at the prince, although he doesn’t reply immediately. He continues working for another minute – in silence this time, Dongmin notices regretfully, wishing Bin would continue to hum whatever human song he’d been singing before Dongmin interrupted him. It was far more fascinating than any Centaurian music he’d heard, which in his opinion was lackluster at best. “Then who’ll watch over you while you sleep?” Bin finally answers jokingly, a smile in his voice. “Don’t worry too much, I just wanted to finish this first.” His nonchalant tone is easy and playful, but it’s rather obvious to Dongmin that he’s hiding something.

The prince decides not to call him out on it, however, instead continuing to watch Bin’s back as the pilot carefully puts together the makeshift comm apparatus. Dongmin wouldn’t say that he wasn’t expecting anything from the human special operations team, but the fact that Bin could build something like this offhand – all while humming, no less – was definitely not something he expected they would be able do. Dongmin still very clearly remembers the power shift of the mechanisms running inside of Bin’s body, the way they seemed to hum and sing as if they were just as alive as the rest of him, and how truly astonishing it was. The adaptability of the human body was truly something else.

Dongmin shifts a little to bring his hand closer to his face, studying the lines of his palm and feeling his intuitive connection with all mechanical objects in the vicinity running through his veins in the form of static electricity. Despite appearing mostly human, Dongmin was most definitely more Centaurian than he let on. There were many things he could do that he never spoke of outside of his home base, important and dangerous secrets about his body and the powers he had, which he promised to keep to himself for the future of Centaurus until the time came for him to reveal everything came. There were more reasons why the king of Centaurus and the humans on Cygni Bb chose to keep him a secret than Dongmin could reveal to the ASTRO crewmembers, and it makes him feel a mixture of regret and guilt.

He glances at Bin again, as if the pilot could somehow read his thoughts, and apologizes mentally for lying to him so blatantly just hours before. Dongmin may look an Earthling, but he couldn’t be more different from one. He had to maintain an air of disadvantage to mislead those after his life; the difference in being perceived as a threat for the approaching crowning versus seeming too weak to survive the competition was a matter of life and death for him and the rest of humanity.

Dongmin clenches his eyes tight, as if he could somehow force himself to sleep again and forget all the things worrying him. The expectations of the human government as well as his father weigh heavily on his shoulders and he has to constantly remind himself of all the reasons _he_ wants to be the next king, of all the lives he wants to change, how much he wants to revolutionize the way the universe worked.

Although Bin was assigned with Dongmin’s wellbeing, the prince was instructed to trust no one until he has two feet inside the Centaurian kingdom, under the protective barrier of the king, which was promised to all participants a few days before the crowning – even if it meant appearing defenseless, even if it meant continuing to lie to someone as open and clear about their feelings and intentions as Bin was to him. Dongmin’s eyes shoot open, suddenly recalling Bin’s confession and flushing immediately. How could he have forgotten so quickly? There was just so much on his mind, and Dongmin wonders if it is normal for humans to appraise each other.

When Bin had called him beautiful, Dongmin had received a shock of his life. Beauty was a word reserved for describing scenery and other similar things deserving of such high praise; he never even thought to compare it the appearance of someone. The intensity of the word frightened him and, at a loss for words, he couldn’t even think of how to react to such an extreme degree of affection. However, not too long after, both Myungjun and Mrs. Yoon referred to him as pretty. Although the word was not as intense as beautiful, the connotation that Dongmin was as visually pleasing as, say, a landscape or a multifaceted crystal, was a foreign concept to him. He originally believed that Bin was declaring the highest form of human affection towards him, but it was obvious that neither Myungjun or Mrs. Yoon had the same intention, and yet they both said something along the same vein as Bin.

It confused Dongmin of what the pilot actually meant by his words; was he stating a fact or expressing affection? The concept of physical beauty was strange to Centaurians; if there even was a comparison, it would probably be the extent of one’s powers, although it sorted out in terms of hierarchy rather than attraction – it was why the king was the king, and why there is a crowning competition instead of a birthright. The only reason Dongmin knew what he did about the many varieties of human emotions was because of his mother, who used to whisper to him human tales of love, friendship, and adventure to aid him in sleep after long days of testing and examinations of his abilities. After she passed, he had access to a multitude of virtual Earthling books, reading several at a time, yet he could never put any of these emotions into practice because his handlers were always Centaurian or human government officials who were afraid to be near him – and for good reason.

Dongmin returns his gaze to Bin’s back, watching the way his bones and muscles moved under the threadbare cloth of his shirt. Or, well, Sanha’s shirt; if the engineer’s clothing was uncomfortably snug on Dongmin, they were outright ludicrous on Bin. Although to the naked eye Bin and Dongmin appear to have the same build, the prince was deceptively slimmer, his body lean and tight all over, whereas Bin is much broader, his muscles bulkier and more defined from constant training. They had bought an outfit each at the festival on Gilese 876d, but those were not the kind you could sleep or lounge around in, what with the heavy leather and other high-tension fabrics meant for casual space environments.

Honestly they probably should have checked before blindly accepting the haversack full of food items and clothing from Mrs. Yoon, but they were more preoccupied with leaving the planet than anything else. Still, despite being too small, the clothes did the job even if Bin looked incredibly uncomfortable. Dongmin wonders if _that_ was the real reason the pilot couldn’t sleep, and immediately feels even worse than before. “I believe it is imperative that we need to stop by the next space station and acquire more clothing,” Dongmin says aloud before he even realizes it, still watching Bin work.

The pilot hums in response, nodding his head as he shifts uncomfortably in the clothing. “Agreed,” he responds with a chuckle, before his body tenses and he yawns. When he blinks away the water in his eyes, he looks more exhausted than ever, but there is something almost soft in the way he rubs his face and scrunches his nose.

Dongmin hides a smile, his observations of Bin giving him warm feelings of endearment. The emotion isn’t foreign, but it is still feels somewhat strange. Centaurians are very adaptive not only biologically but mentally, Dongmin especially due to his hybrid nature; they say interactions with humans make you more human and although it’s only been a day since they’ve met, he can already feel the changes inside of him, eyelids growing heavy as a he echoes Bin’s yawn. “I think you have put off sleeping long enough,” Dongmin murmurs, shifting more comfortably into the bed. He leaves space next to him, already starting to drift off again as Bin finally turns around to look at him.

The pilot chuckles softly, his watchful gaze comfortably warm as he nods in agreement. Sleep seizes the prince soon after, and the last thing remembers before closing his eyes his Bin’s back retreating to the bathroom to wash up.

 

 

 

After taking a relaxing hot shower, Bin stands next to the bed and stares at the large empty space next to Dongmin for a good fifteen minutes. Does he dare? He steps back and forward a couple more times before finally sighing resignedly, choosing sanity over desire and heading to the booth in the back. Both long red seats opposite of each other were wide enough for one person, and surprisingly very comfortable despite the fixed table in between. He chooses the seat where he can see the bed, the prince seemingly fast asleep as Bin settles into his pillow and haphazardly drapes the blanket over himself.

Despite his better judgement, Bin watches Dongmin’s peaceful face for a long time. There were many things running through his mind after lifting off Gilese 876d, most thoughts of which involved the prince in some sort of way; if it wasn’t over the incredibly unprofessional feelings he was rapidly developing, it was anxiety over what the future had in store for them. Surely word must have spread by now that ASTRO had the Centaurian prince in their care, and it wouldn’t be long before Dongmin’s rivals start taking notice of them as well. Despite being well-trained, Bin was rather famous among both human and alien militaries for being Alpha-Class, and it would cause them to stand out in public unless they properly kept themselves disguised while outside the confines of Polaris. Once people realize that he is not aboard ASTRO with the prince, it won’t be hard to put two-and-two together and figure out the real identity of his mysterious companion.

Bin doesn’t know how long it takes before the pangs of exhaustion he felt earlier return to claim him, and he drifts off into an incredibly restless sleep for a few minutes – perhaps even a few hours, who knows. However, his fretful thoughts conjure twisted, dark dreams that startle him awake with uneasiness twisting in his gut. He sits up and immediately looks to the bed, heart ready to stop when he finds it vacated. He’s about to call out for the prince when a familiar voice stops him with a soft chuckle, sounding tremendously close.

“I am right here, Bin.” The voice seems to come from under the table, and when Bin lies back down his breath catches when he sees Dongmin lying across from him on the other side of the booth, a big, beautiful smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He realizes with a start that Dongmin is actually holding his hand, or more honestly, _Bin_ is the one gripping Dongmin’s hand so tightly that the other’s long fingers have gone pale. “You were calling for me in your sleep… fitfully so,” Dongmin informs as he lifts their hands ever so slightly, squeezing Bin’s fingers reassuringly. “My mother used to do this when I had nightmares, so I presumed it would help you as well. I did not mean to awaken you, I apologize.”

Bin’s lips remain parted in shock, his heart racing a mile a minute; he doesn’t even know what to say, unable to take his eyes away from Dongmin’s soft smile and sincere stare. After a few minutes of silence, the prince hesitates for a second, lowering his gaze and biting on his lower lip before looking back into Bin’s eyes once more.

“This time… I will watch over you. So sleep, Bin. I am here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple people here and on AFF told me that they prefer more frequent updates over longer ones. Hopefully in shortening my updates I'll be able to post more often, although how frequent I post is pretty subjective in relation to how much work I have to do for my classes (but still much faster than longer updates, if I'm honest).
> 
> Ofc this also means that the updates will vary between the ships (including Socky), and as Binu is the main ship of this story, there will be more updates featuring them! Again, sorry for the wait! See you guys with a new update soon~


	7. nu Oph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[Moonbin and Eunwoo's outfits](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cp2801K2NCo/TxlhGbnDXdI/AAAAAAAAA4M/HTSh1NgtArM/s640/costume-national-milan-menswear-fashion-week-2012-2013.jpg)**

_[W 1061, Vigor Mining Colony, nu Oph](http://cs8.pikabu.ru/post_img/big/2016/02/18/0/1455743048178550753.jpg) _

 

After Bin finally gets some well-deserved sleep – which was, arguably, the most relaxing couple hours of Bin’s entire life – they head towards the space station on nu Oph, a gas planet just a couple lightyears off the edge of the Altair galaxy, where they were drifting in the clouds of the constellation Circinus the night before. nu Oph was home to another large Earthling mining colony for elemental vigor, although it was harvested under the direct supervision of the alien Ophillus clan. The Ophillians took over eighty percent of the vigor mined by the human laborers at W 1061, mostly because humans could only consume a very small decimal percentage of pure elemental vigor at a time before they started mutating horribly from the radiation and dying of vigor syndrome – also known as the “shivers” among humans.

Vigor is a gas element distributed widely across the universe, and it alters the user’s body by building tolerance to space exposure. Since space is a vacuum, living things freeze almost immediately from the cold, and the lack of breathable atmosphere means that it used to take only a few seconds before you died. Vigor forces the body into a state overdrive where it regenerates as fast as it degenerates in space, significantly diminishing the severe repercussions of prolonged space travel, and liquid vigor is used in human genetic engineering to lengthen life spans and alter the body to withstand other space conditions. Vigor is the reason humans and aliens no longer need heavy-duty spacesuits or impermeable spaceships to survive in space. As it is a renewable energy, vigor found in the surface of nearly every gas planet, but Bin chose nu Oph specifically because it was the closest Earthling mining colony from them; it’s easier to not draw attention to yourself when you look like everyone else there.

Before docking, Bin quickly changes with great enthusiasm into the gear they bought back in Aymara, more than ready to be out of Sanha’s spare clothes and into something that actually fits him. The second they were several galaxies away from Gilese 976d, the pilot had taken their military spacesuits and siphoned them into a molecular discus that Mrs. Yoon included in the haversack. With pirate clans and rebel armies so rampant these days due to the impending political upheaval, Bin wouldn’t put it past human or alien authorities to stop them and inspect Polaris at space stations or mid-travel for contraband. The ship is small enough that it shouldn’t attract much attention, but as an intergalactic spacecraft, Polaris is bound to get searched at some point or another. Dongmin’s identity is supposed to stay a secret from everyone, no matter whom it may me, but it’ll be easier to do when no one knows what he looks like anyway.

Bin hesitates for a second before finally slotting the new discus into his belt, just behind his weapons and extra storage discuses, setting the color to black so that it matched the rest of his ensemble. If they ever need the military spacesuits, he’ll have it on him. Pulling up the UI in his right eye, Bin glances over all his weapons and items, slotting the suits in an area where he can easily select them for regeneration. He notices that his inventory is nearly full and mentally notes to purchase another discus while they’re in W 1061; it’s while he’s distracted like this that the cockpit gate slides open and he walks out into main cabin – completely forgetting that Dongmin was changing in there. The pilot was going to wait for the prince to come get him whenever he was done getting into his gear, not that they had an agreement or anything to do this, but Bin figured Dongmin would like the privacy; he was royalty after all, even if Bin was used to changing in front of his crewmates.

Still oblivious to his blunder, Bin’s unoccupied eye is suddenly distracted by a glimmer, finally looking properly and catching sight of a neat column of small gold horns jutting out of Dongmin’s skin along his spine. They travel from the base of his neck all the way down until Bin loses sight of them at the waistband of the prince’s fitted slacks. Dongmin tugs on his top just as Bin sees the horns, the seams of the shirt and the pants meeting and sealing together automatically. The snug material designed for humans stretches over the horns and leave a trail of bumps protruding enough to be noticeable if you were looking for them, but otherwise inconspicuous enough that no one other than Bin will know.

Speechless, Bin doesn’t know what to do in the situation, unsure if it was okay for him to see this, but Dongmin solves the problem by catching him watching with the corner of his eye, his ears reddening. “Sorry for taking so long,” Dongmin tells him, hastily shrugging on the matching white jacket, now completely hiding the horns. He turns around to face Bin properly, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “This is embarrassing but the shirt kept getting stuck on my horns. Centaurians do not wear clothes that cover our backs, so we put on cloaks instead.”

The pilot immediately imagines Dongmin’s lean body in one of those trendy backless outfits he used to see when he read zines – utterly useless in terms of combat, but visually very attractive. He quickly shakes his head to bring himself back to his senses, figuring that Centaurians probably have developed a way of making it functional, but he still can’t get the image of the prince’s beautiful gold horns out of his head. “I understand, you don’t have to apologize for anything,” he says reassuringly, and, before he can stop himself, his desire to look at the horns again forces him to blurt, “I can help you next time, if you want.”

Dongmin looks surprised at the offer, his eyes widening before his expression melts into a shy smile. “Really? You won’t find that tedious?”

Bin doesn’t know how to say that he wants a closer look without making it sound like he had ulterior motives when it really was just curiosity, so he nods; at least Dongmin won’t have to struggle with human clothing anymore, remembering how awkwardly the prince had strapped himself into Bin’s spare spacesuit with a chuckle. “Just your local friendly solider doing his job,” he jokes, feeling proud when Dongmin laughs.

With the situation dealing with itself, Bin finally continues what he was doing earlier, selecting one of the extra solo headgear units he’d stored on his UI and materializing it in his hand. Blinking the UI away, he holds up the small circular nodule and points to his; it had already expanded into a simple black band around his neck, ready to be activated. This tiny vigor-infused device was the single most important tool for every human military personnel, the shield almost as effective as their combat spacesuits. It converted everything Bin breathed in into safe, non-toxic oxygen and maintained his body temperature, replacing the need for a proper spacesuit in circumstances like theirs, so it was a given that Dongmin should wear one as well. Spacesuits had their own benefits, but for now this’ll have to do.

“Let me help you sync up before we dock.”

 

 

 

The quiet they are met with at the space station is unnerving; Bin was already wary when they disembarked in the terminal to find only a few people regenerating their spacecraft on the rotary lifts supplied in the parking bays. Even when he went to the automated merchant at the mouth of the terminal and filled the rest of his inventory with rocket fuel cylinders, he only spotted two or three people the entire walk there and back. W 1061 is a densely populated colony and Bin has never seen it look so desolate before, even when entire chunks of the population was underground during work hours. Bin knows that this mining colony ran like a prison system, switching laborers in three consecutive shifts – morning, afternoon, and night. It was the entire reason he had Polaris jump into the Altair galaxy when they left Gilese 876d’s asteroid shell behind; he knew that that they could get all the supplies that they needed if they were hidden away in a city as overcrowded as W 1061.

Bin maintains this discomfort after they exit the station, the robots screening them not supplying Bin with any useful information when he questions the lack of people. It’s when they finally head towards the main marketplace at the city center, the entire area void of any inhabitants, that his instinct tells him to stand in front of Dongmin. The prince, who had been staring up at the shuttles flitting between factory towers overhead, let’s out a noise of surprise when the whistling sound of a blaster being fired cuts through the roar of rumbling machinery and hits Bin in the shoulder. The pilot doesn’t even flinch, the headgear well-equipped to protect their entire bodies from smaller ammunition like that with its particle shield. Bin skirts his fingers over his weapons discus, the quick draw immediately materializing his blaster as he covers Dongmin until they’re both hiding inside one of the abandoned nearby stalls.

“What is going on?” the prince asks, his static voice coming through the comm device unfamiliar to Bin. The pilot peers around the edge, his entire body thrumming when he still doesn’t spot a single person.

“I believe it was a stray shot from a brawl happening in a different street,” Bin reasons, bringing out another gun and handing it over to Dongmin. “Do you know how to use this in a pinch?” Their gazes meet through their faceguards and Dongmin accepts the weapon with a nod, answering Bin’s question by reloading it. “It looks like we can’t get everything we need here. We’re going to have to—”

Just then Bin’s internal sensors go off, signaling a sudden gas imbalance. His body reacts before he can even fully grasp the situation, shoving Dongmin to ground and shielding him the same time the marketplace explodes.

 

⤺✶⤻

 

Myungjun jolts awake at the sound of the emergency alarm blaring throughout ASTRO, the ship in a state of chaos as it continuously barrels over again and again. The gravity regulator works to keep him and all other objects bound to the floor even as everything falls over, but the nausea that comes with a rapidly shifting gravitational direction hits him like a punch to the gut. When he pulls himself together he finally notices that the light shining in through the porthole at the far side of his room is an intense shade of neon violet; Myungjun’s heart nearly stops when he realizes that the color signified that ASTRO was caught in a tractor beam that likely belonged to a spacecraft several times larger than theirs.

Before he can think to do anything, a familiar muffled voice calls his name from the hallway in panic. Right then the door slides open and Sanha trips inside just as a particularly violent flip throws everything off-kilter before the gravity regulator can force everything down again, the ship’s pulse engines hiccupping in a futile attempt to escape the beam. The engineer shakily lifts himself from the ground while gathering his bearings, wheezing for air as he tries to calm himself enough to speak. When he looks up his expression is in complete panic, nose bloody likely from crashing into something on his way here. “Myungjun, oh god, you’re awake! Pirates got the jump on us!”

The terror Myungjun felt earlier surges to the forefront, although he keeps a calm face as he accepts the information and begins to hastily come up with some plans. He can just barely hear Jinwoo and Minhyuk’s conversation over the comm with all the blaring alarms, catching onto something about how jump driving could possibly help them escape but also could inversely kill them all before the pressure gage even manages to reach one. Realizing that he’s wasting time by panicking, Myungjun clambers to his feet and helps Sanha stand up again. They both sprint out of the lodgings in the back and head towards the superstructure, slamming into walls and railings as they just barely keep their heads from knocking into anything and compromising their mental abilities in this time of crisis.

With their combat-trained pilot now missing in action, Myungjun knows that he and Sanha will be more of a liability than an asset to Jinwoo and Minhyuk if this came down to a physical fight. He wonders how pirates even managed to slip under their radar without alerting anyone; his biggest worry is what clan these pirates belong to because recently pirate clans have gotten so big and powerful that they’re starting their own colonies, which is another issue entirely. Even with all these thoughts, Myungjun triple checks his comm to see if he somehow managed to neglect any incoming messages, essentially useless because he literally sleeps with one eye open out of fear of missing something important.

The more he thinks about it, the less it makes sense for pirates to be attacking ASTRO when it’s so obviously a government sanctioned militant spaceship; it would only cause the pirates trouble in the long run, and this ship doesn’t even have anything worth looting. It’s only as Myungjun’s shoving on his tactical spacesuit over his leisure uniform that he realizes that Sanha, who is making sure Myungjun doesn’t lose his footing and fall over as the ship continues to jerk in every direction, is probably the reason why they’re being captured. His face loses color as he stares at the horns on Sanha’s head, freezing in place as dread fills his stomach.

“What?” the engineer asks, his wide eyes fearful and searching. “You’re making me nervous! What’s wrong?!”

Myungjun rapidly shakes his head, roughly fastening the suit as he collects himself. A sharp dagger of determination lodges in his gut, calculations whirring in his brain as he tries to figure out a way they can get out of this alive; they can’t get caught this early into the mission, Myungjun’s pride won’t allow it. He glances at the horns again, reminding himself that they still have the upper hand, before finally addressing Sanha directly. “How much time do you need to rev up the particle beam canon?”

Sanha balks for a second, still confused, before realization dawns on his expression. “The experimental one?” When Myungjun nods, Sanha’s brows furrow in thought, complying much quicker than expected; he must be more excited to use it than he let on. The engineer has been working on it for a couple weeks now, although it was technically illegal for them to use, but drastic situations call for drastic measures and Myungjun is ready to lay all the cards on the table if it means keeping their upper hand.

“Well?” he urges as he heads into the corridor, knowing that they probably don’t have much time left. When he turns towards the main control room, he realizes that Sanha isn’t following him.

“Seven minutes!” Sanha yells over his shoulder, already rushing in the opposite direction back towards the engine room.

“Make it three!” Myungjun shouts back. Sanha starts running even faster, and the sight calms him.

He is going to get them out of this no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are gonna get intense from here on out!
> 
> Also I know, it took me forever to update! I'll be honest, I got extremely distracted by comebacks (a lot) and finals (even more). But now!! My classes are over!!! Only for 2 weeks, but better than nothing. I'm actually trying to be active in several fandoms all at once so I'm overwhelming myself (sigh), but we'll see what happens.


	8. Mine 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is 4AM and this is UNEDITED!!!!!!!
> 
> Hey, I'm back! Hurricane Harvey threw me off, as well as my professors who think it's a great idea to cram the weeks that we missed in along with our already busy schedules. It's all great fun.

_[Mine 17, the largest elemental vigor channel in W 1061](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/84/00/3b/84003bf737375e5916b7643ab95a831e.jpg) _

 

A horrible throbbing in his skull has Dongmin reeling back to reality sooner than anticipated, blearily blinking open his eyes to find himself looking up at the sky. There are blurry silhouettes approaching in his peripherals, but the overpowering brightness of the sunlight overhead forces him to clench his eyes in pain. The ringing in his ears get louder with every passing second and the strong smell of acid only makes the sharp sting in his head worsen. He can feel the deadweight of Bin’s body pinning him down, and it would have been more burdensome had Dongmin not been as strong as he is. The shock as well as his disorientation keeps him from being able to push Bin off himself, unable to think clear enough to do something as simple as that.

Before Dongmin can even figure out what happened, or how long he was out, shadows fall over him and block the overbearing heat of nu Oph’s sun. “Are you okay?” one voice asks, sounding far off despite how close they seem. Dongmin barely registers the question, unable to keep his eyes open long enough to figure out who the silhouette belonged to. On an audible count of three, Bin’s heavy body is finally rolled off Dongmin. “Oh man, the acid bomb really did a number on your metal carapace.”

Dongmin’s vision is still spinning as he struggles to sit up, the shakiness of his limbs not helping. He holds his head as he groans under his breath, finally looking up properly. “My… what?” he mumbles, trying to get his eyes to focus on the two figures in front of him. The smaller one is leaning over Bin while the taller holds tightly onto a blaster, keeping watch.

“Metal carapace. You know, your android companion? It’s slang. Well, I guess you wouldn’t know what that means if you’re not from around here,” the one examining Bin rambles, his eyes focused on the pilot’s head. “Looks like the acid seeped through and fried his circuit boards. Should be an easy fix, though.” At that, Dongmin follows his gaze to look down at Bin, who is lying on his stomach next to Dongmin. The prince’s gut curdles with horror when he sees how the acid had managed to sear through parts of Bin’s headgear shield. The unprotected areas leave scorch marks in his clothes, exposing patches of skin that have also been burned. But even more shockingly, in the areas near the back of his head where the acid broke through his skin, there is metal plating instead of excessive bleeding. Some of the plating is broken as well, as if something jagged had collided with it during the explosion, leaving exposed wires.

Dongmin’s throat goes dry as he presses his shaking hand to Bin’s neck, not feeling a pulse or any of that warmth that Bin normally gives off. Bin isn’t really breathing, even though he looks asleep; his body rises and falls as if to simulate breathing, fingers and eyes twitching like how someone would normally do if they were knocked out. It seems like the mechanisms that were still intact are running on low power consumption to keep him alive, lungs pumping their own air and heart beating at an incredibly slow pace to reduce bleeding, as if in a state of hyper sleep until he can be patched up. Dongmin knew Bin had a lot of robotic components in him, but looking at him like this makes him wonder just how far the Earthling military went to get their soldiers to be kept alive even through an acid explosion. In a way, it was inexplicably… inhumane.

“I’ve got to say though, are you a mechanic?” the shorter stranger suddenly asks, breaking into Dongmin’s thoughts. Dongmin had all but forgotten that the other two were there. “Because this is the most humanlike android I’ve ever seen, even for a custom make. His reaction time was unbelievable! I saw everything from my scope just before the bomb went off. I tried firing warning shots to get you both to leave the area, but there just wasn’t enough time.”

The prince looks up at the same time the other man does, and their eyes make contact. He’s missing a left eye, which has been sown shut, but he has a third one on his forehead. He looks human, though; Dongmin notices a slight tremor in his limbs, how he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering, and it suddenly makes sense. The shivers. His companion with the blaster who is still standing guard has translucent scales peeking out from under the collar of his jacket, but otherwise is probably also another human who suffered mutations from the shivers. The companion still hasn’t said a single word, and hasn’t looked at Dongmin once, keeping the same solemn expression as he looks out at what was left of the exploded marketplace.

“He is not an android,” Dongmin supplies once he remembers how to speak English again. He looks back down at Bin, but this time in mild confusion; he isn’t, right? “He is a cyborg. He is my…” The prince pauses for a second, unsure what to say. If he says guard, it will be suspicious, especially with the news of a half-human Centaurian prince on the run still fresh on everyone’s mind. But even if Dongmin says Bin is a friend, it wouldn’t make sense as why Bin would protect him like this. Suddenly, Mr. and Mrs. Yoon pop into his thoughts, and Dongmin’s face flushes red as he coughs to buy himself time. He tries to come to terms with what he’s about to say before he finally stutters it out. “He is… my, um, lover.”

The short human makes an ‘o’ with his lips as he nods, as if it actually makes sense even if it doesn’t to Dongmin; he just feels incredibly embarrassed, but he’s not going to take it back. “Then we better take cover and patch up your boy. His machinery is really intricate, but it’s nothing I can’t figure out.”

Dongmin’s head shoots up to look at the stranger, eyes wide in surprise. “You would do that? For someone you do not even know?”

The man just shrugs, a small smile on his face. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he responds pensively, a reflective glint in his working eye. He looks incredibly young then, perhaps a teenager, and Dongmin wonders where the rest of the city’s inhabitants are. “I am a mechanic after all. I do what I can.” He looks over at the other stranger, motioning with his head. “Jun, a little help?”

The taller campion walks over to them immediately, startling Dongmin when he kneels next to Bin. He looks over at Dongmin expectantly, as if asking him a question with his eyes, but Dongmin doesn’t understand human social cues so he just gapes back like a fish. Watching the exchange, the mechanic chuckles. “You’re a strange one,” he says to Dongmin. “Jun’s asking if it’s okay to pick up your boyfriend.”

Dongmin flushes at the word boyfriend but nods rapidly, scrambling to his feet. “Oh! Yes, of course you can—” His head spins from getting up so suddenly and he sways dangerously, but the mechanic stands up and helps steady him.

“Whoa there buddy, slow it down. You just survived a bomb. Barely, anyway,” he cautions, and he feels even smaller next to Dongmin now that they’re both standing up.

“Sorry,” the prince apologizes, feeling sick. His head is spinning again. “I guess I am still out of it.” He catches sight of Jun carefully lifting Bin over his shoulder before he needs to close his eyes again to make the world stop moving so much.

“I’ll bet,” the mechanic says, eyeing Dongmin as they start making their way through the market ruins. “By the way, I’m Jihoon but everyone around here calls me Woozi. Who are you guys?”

“My name Dongmin, and my companion is Bin. We were only supposed to stop for supplies, but… well, this happened,” Dongmin explains, mind slowly clearing up enough for him to take notice of their surroundings again. The entire city is just as abandoned as the marketplace had been; where the façade of the city had still been intact, the deeper they go into W 1061, the more dilapidated it looks. It was almost as if some sort of huge battle broke out in the entire city.

 “You guys couldn’t have chosen a worse time to dock here. The ports are open, but those infected with the shivers can’t leave,” Woozi begins to say when he takes notice of Dongmin’s curious gaze. “The city was quarantined by pirates about a week ago. They destroyed all the local spaceships they could get their hands on and claimed that it was because of the outbreak of the shivers, but everyone knows it’s not contagious. You get it from living and working in the mines, not from other people. The pirates just wanted a reason to starve us out and take control of this vigor source for themselves. They’re setting up a blockade to encase the colony as we speak, so that’s why there haven’t been any attacks. A couple of us come out here from the mines to test weapons and bombs to keep the pirates out – sorry about that, by the way.”

Dongmin shakes his head to show that it’s fine so long as they’re still alive, but he can’t believe what he’s hearing, chest tight in horror. “Why would they do this? There are many vigor sources on this planet, are there not?”

“It’s because TY and the Dragon have both been fighting over this colony for years now, but recently TY set out to capture the human Centaurian prince that has been rumored to exist, so the Dragon is taking advantage of her absence,” Woozi explains, but then he shakes his head with a roll of his eyes. “I call bullshit, though. It’s all a hoax by the government to get the pirates scrambling on a wild goose chase. Captain TY is probably gonna navigate straight into a trap and get wiped by the government. Good riddance though. The universe could do without her fleet. Anyway, we all know that Centaurians and humans can’t mix genes.”

Dongmin hums awkwardly in agreement, although he bites at his lip anxiously when he thinks about ASTRO getting tracked by a pirate ship as massive as the Generation 7, all with the entirety of Captain TY’s enormous fleet backing her up. The Generation 7 is named aptly because it is designed after a gen ship prototype, meaning it houses literal hundreds of thousands of pirates inside of it. TY was not called the pirate empress for no reason – their rivals weren’t a joke, either. “And what about the Dragon? Is he threatening war?”

Woozi doesn’t reply at first, glancing over his shoulder before the four of them slip into one of the back alleyways. Dongmin’s vision takes a moment to adjust to the sudden darkness, blinking until he can see the dead end all the way at the back. His brows furrow in confusion, but before he can ask about it, Woozi answers his previous questions. “We’re not sure. We couldn’t fight back much when he was parading through the colony a week ago and destroying ships, but he didn’t seem all that interested in fighting. I think he plans to keep some of us alive to work the mines for him, but not before weakening us, so we can’t feel too safe. I’m sure you heard about that government patrol spaceship with an Alpha-Class pilot that went MIA a few months ago? 1K-0N? Apparently the Dragon’s got them locked up somewhere in The Big Bang. It’s currently orbiting nu Oph. Last time I checked it was on the far side of the planet, but Jun overheard one of the crewmates talking about it when he went to scope out one of their docked crafts.”

Dongmin actually _had_ heard about the missing crew — he remembers one of his handlers vaguely mentioning it while in conversation with someone else — but he would never have though that pirates got them, let alone someone as elusive as the Dragon. Not much is known about The Big Bang other than the fact that it’s rumored to be a death star, or in other words, a planet destroyer. It’s the size of a small moon and shaped as such, but no one has heard of the Dragon actually using the weapon. The rumors are enough to keep government intervention minimal however, so Dongmin doesn’t think they’ll send anyone to retrieve the kidnapped crew if they’re really on The Big Bang, even if there is an Alpha-Class pilot among them. Dongmin mentally notes to tell Bin whenever they get him running again; it’s likely he knows who that pilot is.

Thoughts of Bin bring Dongmin’s thoughts to the prone pilot, who still looks like he’s only sleeping, the areas where he was burned or bleeding already starting scab over and heal from the nanobots in his bloodstream, albeit slowly because of the damage he took to his head from the acid. Dongmin feels incredibly guilty even though he knows that Bin was doing his job, but in the short time they’ve known each other, Dongmin would like to think that they’re somewhat friends. He doesn’t entirely know how the whole friendship thing works, but in the books he’s read, it seems to come naturally, but he’s worried about Bin’s wellbeing nonetheless.

Despite knowing that Bin was a cyborg all along, Dongmin didn’t realize just how much of his body is robotic material in human skin. For someone to classify as a cyborg, they need to have more human parts than mechanical. It’s strange, because Bin doesn’t act like a machine. He has emotions and moves fluidly, so it’s clear that his body was converted to this more automated condition over time. Dongmin decides that this physical change is likely something that only Alpha-Class pilots go through, but there is still so much he doesn’t understand, and he finds that his curiosity only grows the more he gets to know Bin.

Lost in thought, Dongmin doesn’t realize that they’ve arrived at a hatch in the ground until they reach the dead end he saw earlier. “What is this?”

“It’s one of the entrances into Mine 17,” Woozi tells him, and he pauses for a second before meeting Dongmin’s eyes. “It’s best that as soon as I patch up Bin, you both need to get off this planet immediately. Long time exposure to elemental vigor is not healthy, even for your cyborg lover. There isn’t a cure for the shivers, and if you contract it, you won’t be able to get past the robots at the docking station. We’ll outfit you guys with the supplies that you came here for, but promise me that when we do, you guys will leave?”

He looks so serious, but Dongmin hesitates; he’s not actually human so he already knows that he is immune to the shivers. He’s got that hollow feeling in his chest again, the same one he felt when they had to leave Mr. and Mrs. Yoon behind after all the help they gave them; he doesn’t know what emotion that is, but he hates it. “You are willing to go so far to help us. It feels strange to not somehow return the favor.”

Woozi just shakes his head, and he’s got that wry smile on his face again, the one that makes him look incredibly young. “This is our war, and we’re determined to see it through alive.”

“We’ll win,” Jun suddenly says, voice extremely shaky, although not from apprehension but from being sick, teeth to chattering violently with every syllable. It’s probably why he doesn’t speak much, as it’s much worse that Woozi’s symptoms. “We will live, and we will win.”

Dongmin nods even as his fists clench at his sides; he’s figured out what the feeling is.

Powerless.

 

 

 

When Bin opens his eyes, all he sees is blue. He struggles, but his body feels heavy, like he hasn’t woken in years. He feels drowsy, moving so slowly that he can’t tell if he’s even moving at all. As time passes, his eyes adjust and he realizes he’s floating in blue liquid that is mostly opaque. He doesn’t know how long he tries to stare through the liquid to see what is happening, but over time he finds that he can slowly start to make out a lab. There is blinking machinery, three lights in a row where two are red and one is green. Both red lights are flashing in rapid succession, but that’s about all Bin can tell.

Bin slowly moves his body through the thick liquid, reaching out with his hand to find that his fingers are pressing up against glass. Realizing he’s in some sort of encasement, he figures out that he’s not the only one, spotting other encasements to his left and right. His heart rate suddenly picks up in panic, and the feeling returns to his limbs as adrenaline surges through his veins. There is something in his mouth supplying air, and there are tubes tapped to his hands and feet. He struggles, hitting the glass but finding that he doesn’t have his usual strength.

Before he can do anything else, the doors on the far side of the room slide open and some sort of technician walks in, taking note of the flashing lights before she sees Bin. Her eyes go wide shock and she rushes over to whatever Bin is encased in. He takes notice of a control panel at the foot of his glass tank, although the angle keeps him from being able to tell what she’s doing.

Faster than he woke up, Bin starts feeling tired again, the energy gradually draining from his body until his vision starts blacking out and his limbs go numb. He struggles to remain awake, shaking his head but finding his movements growing more and more sluggish. When he blinks, he’s on his back staring up at a ceiling, fully conscious like he’d never even slept in the first place.

“Oh, you’re running again!” a stranger’s voice suddenly exclaims. Bin turns his head to look at the man leaning over him; he has light hair, a third eye on his forehead and a sown left eye. Bin’s sensors are hazy and messed up, but his internal warning goes off to tell him that the person is infected with the shivers. “That’s weird, I haven’t really done much yet except for replacing some of those wires connected to your brain stem, but they didn’t seem all that important. Your circuit board is still pretty messed up from the acid, but once I get that in check your nanobots will kick into high-gear and restructure whatever deteriorated. You were running on auto for a while there, I wasn’t sure you were human at all. I’ve never seen a cyborg quite like you before.”

Bin slowly nods, unsure what to make of this sudden change in situation. Whatever his vision from before was, it felt so real, like he was really there. He inhales a deep breath to calm himself before finally taking in his surroundings, noting that he’s not in a lab but inside some sort of mechanical armor and weapons shop. He’s lying prone on a table in the middle of the room, and when he shifts to look at his arms, he can see the acid burns on his skin. It’s been a while since he took damage, seeing as he’s more use to blunt force than acid, so it really took a toll on him. He wasn’t really mechanized to take acid in any form, it’s part of the whole still remaining somewhat human approach that the government took on for this batch of Alpha-Class aviator upgrades. It takes him another minute to remember what happened before his strange dream – or maybe it wasn’t a dream? – and he panics when he thinks of Dongmin and the bomb.

“If you’re wondering where your pretty boyfriend is, he’s sleeping on the couch to your left,” the mechanic says, reading Bin’s expression with a smirk. “He’s fine, though. You really risked it out there.”

Bin doesn’t let the shock reach his face, but _oh man_ is he stupefied to be called the prince’s boyfriend. How long was he out? How did he get here? What happened after? He turns his head the opposite way to see Dongmin passed out on the couch against the wall, sleeping on his back with his hands clasped on his stomach like true royalty. The shield on his headgear seemed have done a decent job in keeping him protected, what with Bin’s body taking most of the damage, and he looks completely fine if you ignore the dirt stains on his white clothes. He has a small cut over his left brow, likely from when Bin slammed into him, and the pilot feels sheepish as he stares at it.

Bin startles when he feels hands on his neck, turning quickly to look at the stranger. “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna finish patching you up,” the mutated mechanic tells him, a small smile on his face like Bin’s reaction was somehow amusing. When Bin still doesn’t look so sure, the other man continues to speak. “If I was gonna kill you, I would have bombed you guys a second time. Seeing as this accident was my fault, I’m just making up for it.”

The pilot knows that he doesn’t really have much of a choice, so he concedes with a nod. He turns over to look at the prince again as the stranger fixes Bin’s circuit board. Bin feels calmer just by looking at Dongmin sleeping, trying not to think about the strange vision-like dream he had. It felt almost like some sort of alternate reality, like a bend in the matrix, but Bin only heard about those happening in black holes.

As soon as the circuit board is restored, Bin’s entire body suddenly jolts in agony, back bowing off the table when his pain sensors finally go off and send shockwaves through his veins. He feels the vibration of the billions of nanobots in his bloodstream working rapidly to mend him, but they make it feel like his insides are melting. He clenches his teeth and lets out a quiet grunt, squeezing his eyes and closing his fists. It takes another few minutes before the pain dies down enough for him to be able to stop hyperventilating, rolling over to his side as he gasps for air. Exhausted but healed up, Bin sighs and relaxes his entire body. When he looks at his arms again, the burns are gone, leaving patches of red that will go away soon enough. He sits up carefully, a little sore, but he’s felt worse.

“Thank you,” he says to the mechanic, who had been startled by Bin’s suddenly violent reaction and was watching him with wide eyes.

The man tilts his head. “For what? I’m the reason you were injured.”

“I know, but you could have left us. I can run on autopilot but… I’m not myself when that happens. I mean, I’m not entirely fond of being braindead, but I guess I could have gotten used to it,” Bin jokes, although he’s being honest. He’s not sure how or why he got knocked out so badly that he somehow disconnected, but he has a feeling that it must have been one of those superhuman enhancements they added into his infinitely long list of upgrades back when he was still in training. He had the most upgrades out of the rest of his crewmates, as well as the rest of his graduating class; he was Alpha-Class for a reason.

The stranger – Woozi, he calls himself – fills Bin in on the situation going on in W 1061, with the pirates as well as Captain TY possibly going after ASTRO. Bin is confident in his crewmates ability to take on the fleet, even if it means by escaping, so he takes the information in stride by keeping his expression schooled when the mechanic tells him as much.

“Where are we, by the way?” Bin asks, getting onto his feet and stretching. His clothes are burned in patches and he stares at them disgruntledly.

“Underground, in Mine 17. All the infected inhabitants of the colony migrated down here after the Dragon marched through the city with his pirates. Luckily there are dwellings down here for the workers running through the entirety of the mine system, so most of us set up shop down here. Those who could get out have already fled,” Woozi explains as he cleans the table Bin had bled all over. Bin guiltily offers help, but the mechanic waves him off. “Earlier Dongmin told me y’all docked for supplies. I suggest you stock up at the makeshift market. It’s a couple of channels down—”

Suddenly the door to the shop bursts and in marches a man with lilac skin and sharp teeth. He’s got a glint in his dark eyes, long silvery hair to his shoulders, but he’s much more energetic for someone also infected with the shivers. “Jun said that there is a really pretty weirdo in your shop! I’m here to size him up, since there can only be one,” he exclaims as he enters, and one other person follows close behind. He looks less mutated than the others, but he still has large orange patches on his skin that are almost too light to notice. He has an apologetic look on his face as he shrugs at Woozi.

“Sorry I couldn’t stop Jeonghan on time,” he apologizes to the put-out mechanic, before he catches sight of Bin and immediately holds out his hand to shake. “I’m Seungcheol.” As Bin accepts it, he can feel the one named Jeonghan staring at him.

“This isn’t who Jun was talking about, is he?” the sharp-toothed man asks.

“Enough of that,” Woozi interjects, gesturing to the door. “Since you guys are here, can you make yourselves useful and take Bin out to the market? He needs to stock up and leave the colony before they contract something.”

“Ah, he’s the one who got caught in the acid bomb,” Seungcheol says, smiling apologetically. “I guess news about the quarantine hasn’t really spread. The government is keeping it pretty hush, what with The Big Bang orbiting nu Oph and all.”

“Yeah, can’t exactly do anything when the Dragon’s got a death star,” Jeonghan adds, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s still staring at Bin, sizing him up, and the pilot isn’t quite sure where to look.

“ _Supposed_ death star,” Woozi counters, but he’s not arguing the point so much as suggesting it. “Now can all of you get out of my shop? I have customers waiting at the door and you guys are crowding the place.”

Bin nods in agreement despite the other two looking quite comfortable with just standing there. He walks around the table to where Dongmin is still sleeping on the couch, still looking as peaceful as ever. Bin almost considers leaving him here to sleep, but his training won’t let him even entertain the idea longer than a half-second. He prods the sleeping prince’s shoulder, nudging him carefully awake.

“Dongmin,” Bin says, his voice hushed despite the fact he was trying to wake the prince up. He hasn’t done this before and he isn’t sure how Dongmin will react. “Dongmin, we need to get going.”

The prince wakes up quicker than Bin expects, blinking his disorientated eyes open slowly before focusing on Bin. He smiles when he sees the pilot, big and bright as he quickly sits up. “Bin!” he says looking both relieved and excited, instantaneously setting Bin’s heart aflutter, before glancing questioningly at Woozi. “I thought it would take a while to reboot?”

“I thought so too, but after I redid the exposed wires he started breathing normally and gained consciousness almost immediately,” Woozi explains, chucking the bloody rag into a basin at the back the room. He picks something off the shelf before walking over to them. He hands Bin a medical ointment, motioning it towards Dongmin before handing it off. “For the cut. Didn’t want a jealous boyfriend on my case so I waited until you were up.”

Dongmin flushes pink almost immediately, looking effectively embarrassed as he smiles awkwardly at Bin. Bin just barely schools his expression in time, finding the prince’s reaction incredibly cute. “I am sure Bin would not have minded,” Dongmin says with a self-conscious laugh, rubbing the back of his neck and eyes sorry as if he thought that somehow Bin would hate this arrangement.

Bin cracks a smile, twisting the cap off the ointment. “Actually, I would mind,” he says simply, scooping a healthy dollop of cream with his finger. Placing the compact jar onto the floor, Bin steadies Dongmin’s head with his clean hand and carefully spreads the ointment over the cut. The prince flinches slight at the sting, but he’s staring at Bin with wide eyes, like he doesn’t know what to make of the situation. Bin hopes that Dongmin will let this slide and allow him this much, writing it off as acting and nothing more even if Bin is doing his best not to give away just how hard his heart is racing in his chest from being so close.

There are flecks of gold in Dongmin’s skin where the weak overhead lamp catches them in just the right angle, a faint freckle or two – a mole, maybe? – on his cheeks and nose. Bin probably stares too long because Dongmin isn’t looking at him anymore, gaze fixed on his lap like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. His lashes are long too, the dark brown stark against his skin, and Bin _really_ needs to stop before he does something stupid, like fall for the one person he’s not supposed to.

When he pulls away, the cut on Dongmin’s brow has sealed up nicely, leaving behind a temporary red mark where the skin was stimulated into healing itself. “There,” he says quietly, voice coming out rough from holding in his breath for so long. He coughs to clear his throat, standing up quickly. Dongmin follows suit, still not looking at him, and Bin wonders what he’s thinking. “Are you okay to go?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Dongmin finally looks at him, maybe on accident, but he catches Bin’s eyes nonetheless; it’s hard not to, when they’re the same height. “Ah, yes, I... I am.” He’s wringing his fingers, shyly looking away again. He looks at the doorway, where they seem to have an audience. “Oh. Who are these gentlemen?”

Seungcheol smiles amicably. “I’m Seungcheol, and this is Jeonghan—”

“We’re here to escort his highness to the marketplace,” Jeonghan cuts in, those dark eyes of his glinting again, and his words cause Bin and Dongmin to freeze up. They exchange panicked looks, and Bin opens his mouth to lie, or maybe argue, but Jeonghan continues speaking before either of them can do anything. “You don’t treat me like royalty,” the sharp-toothed man says to his companion, making a face. “I’m just as pretty as he is.”

The other man appears speechless, gaping at Jeonghan. “You already act like you’re the king!”

A simultaneous wave of relief washes over Bin and Dongmin, both releasing long sighs as they smile at furtively each other; no one noticed anything, it was just a bad choice of words. Still, they needed to be more careful.

With their new guides, Bin and Dongmin head out of the mechanic shop. Bin finally gets to see the mines for the first time, eyes wide as he takes in the surroundings. The entire mine system looked more like a gigantic cave, the vigor bubbles that act as gas pockets for give the place an ethereal purplish-blue glow, some of the smaller pockets giving off yellow light instead. The huge tunnels seem to vibrate with energy, the smell of elemental vigor thick in the air. Bin had replaced his headgear unit with a new one before they left, and he fiddles with the black band around his neck to double check that it was working and filtering everything he breathes into oxygen like it’s supposed to.

With they reach shaft 17-81, Bin is amazed to find a bustling marketplace not unlike the one that used to be on the surface. Most of the people from the colony really must have relocated down here, because it is incredibly crowded, people going about their daily lives like nothing has changed. In a way, it really hasn’t. Their livelihood was made down here in the mines, so Bin can’t imagine their lives have changed much now that they’re down here.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol aid them in finding some more clothing as well as various dietary microchips for their food generator with special colonial nu Oph recipes in them. They meet a couple other friends of Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s, who all seem to know Woozi and Jun as they mention them the second they lay their eyes on Bin and Dongmin. By the time they’re all stocked up and ready to go at the exit of the mine, it feels almost sad that they must leave. Despite all the inhabitants of Mine 17 being infected by the shivers, they seem so lively. Bin has come to understand that long exposure to elemental vigor from both living above the mines and working in them has caused the people living in the colony to have developed a sort of immunity to the more deadly side-effects of vigor. Their mutations leave them looking less human and more half-alien, with stuttering voices and quaking bodies, but otherwise the sickness itself was not killing them.

Only Woozi leaves the mine to take them out to the port they docked in, walking faster than Bin and Dongmin despite both being taller than him. He stops in front of the large metal gates before turning around, and for a moment no one says anything.

“I wish we could find a way to evacuate you all,” Dongmin suddenly says, breaking the silence, and something in his voice tells Bin that this was a continuation to a conversation they must have been having before he regained consciousness.

Woozi just shakes his head, but he has a thankful smile on his face. “We don’t really want to leave. This place is home, and we’ll fight for it just the same. And anyway, I’m sure TY will return once she realizes she’s been sent on a wild goose chase and get back to hashing it out with the Dragon like they always do. We’ll just hold down fort until then.”

Dongmin and Woozi smile at each other, some kind of friendship between them that makes Bin smile. As they walk past the mechanic towards the gate, Woozi grabs hold of Bin’s arm.

“Wait a minute,” he says, voice quiet enough that Dongmin doesn’t hear as he continues to walk. Bin turns to look at the mechanic in surprise, startled by the suddenly very somber expression on his face. “You… you’ve got a serial number between your shoulder blades.” Bin freezes up then, his breath catching; in the confusion, he’d forgotten all about that. Woozi must sense the panic because he just shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone that you both work for the government. I closed the burn holes on the back of the shirt you were wearing before so that no one else would notice. I don’t even care about that though, because that’s not why I stopped you.”

Bin exhales slowly in relief, glad that Woozi doesn’t suspect Dongmin to be the rumored Centaurian prince, but the tension doesn’t completely leave his body. “Is there something wrong?”

Woozi nods, thinking for a moment as if he needed to choose his words carefully. “Those wires in your head… those weren’t normal wires. They’re called protectorates. They feed a signal from an external source. You know what that might mean, don’t you?”

Something in the pit of Bin’s stomach sinks all the way down to his toes, his vision swimming with flashes of the blue fluid tank that felt so incredibly real, like he was _actually inside of them that very moment_. He swallows thickly, unable to say a word as Woozi continues to speak.

“Your body wasn’t functioning organically until I repaired them. Bin…,” he says, voice dropping to a whisper. “I think… I think you might not be who you think you are.”

 

 

 

Bin can feel Dongmin’s eyes on him as they finish loading up Polaris and placing their newly bought items into storage units. He knows that he’s being awfully quiet, but he can’t help himself. He doesn’t know what to think anymore, finding himself analyzing that dream, that _vision_ , over and over, wondering what it could mean.

“You must be troubled,” Dongmin suddenly says, breaking into Bin’s thoughts. They haven’t taken off yet, sitting across from each other at the booth as they nurse coffee and a couple biscuits. Bin looks up to meet Dongmin’s concerned eyes, the prince looking back at him with his lower lip caught between his teeth in worry.

“What?” Bin asks, wondering if maybe Dongmin overheard his conversation with Woozi.

“Woozi. I think he knows you are a solider. He told you about the missing patrol crew, did he not? You look distressed because of it, since you are so close to them but are stuck with me, instead.” Dongmin’s long fingers tap on the mug he’s carefully holding with both hands. He looks sad, his shoulders sagging.

Bin shakes his head. “He didn’t tell me anything. By missing patrol crew, you don’t mean one aboard 1K-0N do you?”

Dongmin looks surprised, his gold eyes growing wide. “He did not mention it? Well, Jun overheard some of the pirates talking about how the Dragon kidnapped the entire ship, along with the crew inside. Apparently, he has them locked up somewhere inside.”

Overwhelmed with shock, Bin’s jaw just drops as he falls back into his seat. Again, he recalls his vision, of the two other glass encasements as well as the three lights, two of them blinking red. He runs a hand through his hair, memories of long nights training with Chanwoo and Eunbi as they were examined and given stimulants over and over to test their limits, as well as their abilities. He remembers being with them when he first went in for upgrade surgery, terrified to wake up as a completely new being with new additions and modifications to his body that would completely and utterly alter how he lived, how he felt, _who_ he was as a person.

It was the three of them who made it through the incredibly taxing course, the three of them who stood proudly out in front of their graduating class in their navy-blue uniforms adorned with seven gold stars, holding a salute, a bright smile, and a promise of a safer future. Bin and Eunbi went into special ops whereas Chanwoo, who always wanted to be an everyday hero, joined the patrol unit. When he went missing with the entire crew aboard 1K-0N, Bin hadn’t known what to do with himself. He wanted to trust that Chanwoo was okay, but after that vision, of the two red lights, along with the knowledge that Eunbi’s crew has been undercover for several weeks now… Bin knew he had to have been one of them, meaning Chanwoo was the other.

However, with the uncertainty surrounding The Big Bang and its rumored death star capabilities pointing straight at nu Oph, Bin knows that even he _could_ do something about it, he would not, not if it risked millions of lives. Chanwoo would never forgive him for risking something like that.

With a burdened sigh, Bin looks up at Dongmin again, the prince looking even more worried than before. Bin cracks a small smile, appreciative of the prince’s concern over him and wanting to ease some of it. “Some years ago, I made an oath with a room full of several thousand people to do everything in my power to serve the government in order protect humankind,” he begins, straightening up as he meets Dongmin’s eyes again. “Right now, you _are_ the embodiment of that. My duty to you comes first. You’re not holding me back from anything, don’t worry.”

Surprised by the pilot’s words, Dongmin ducks his head. He looks upset, even more than before, distraught. “I might not even become king,” Dongmin says, his voice low and shaky as his hands tighten around his mug. “I am not as special, or miraculous, or as worthy as everyone seems to think I am. I am…” Dongmin pauses for a second, biting on his lips again and closing his eyes as well, as if something was physically holding him back from speaking.

He seems to come to a decision because he meets Bin’s eyes once more, gaze searching. There are tears swimming in front of his gold irises, prickling at the corners of his eyes as they threaten to fall, and the pilot becomes worried that he said something horribly wrong as he looks back at the other man in shock. Bin reaches for Dongmin’s hand, his shoulder, his cheek, anything, to comfort him, but the prince recoils, as if the touch might burn him; or rather, burn Bin.

“Dongmin?” he asks, confused as the other struggles to speak, shining silver tears streaking down the prince’s ruddy cheeks. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Bin, I…,” Dongmin chokes out, a confession on his tongue, his pretty lips red and raw from chewing on them so much while struggling come up with words to say. “I am… I am a monster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will have us back aboard ASTRO. Also sorry for the long wait guys, I hope you're still curious as to what happens next!


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